


The Price of Freedom

by Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Escort Bucky, Explicit Sexual Content, Human Loki, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-27 00:52:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2672771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum/pseuds/Dont_touch_the_phlebotinum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the best things in life don't come for free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plastic_cello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/gifts).



Loki Odinson was lost. Not physically — he knew exactly where he was, stood in his mother's gourmet kitchen staring at a cupboard full of fine china. In life? Well, that was probably up for debate, depending on your definition of a meaningful existence. No, at that moment, Loki was mainly lost as to the reason why one woman had a need for so many different sets of crockery.

It had been ten years since Loki had left the family home for college; he couldn't be expected to remember which set of almost identical plates were the 'company' plates, rather than the 'board of directors' plates or the 'entertaining various government or military officials' plates. His mother would be able to tell immediately if he selected the wrong ones, though.

"Do Thor, Sif and I even count as company?" he said as he glanced over his shoulder towards his mother gliding back into the kitchen to retrieve the steaks from the oven. His brother's girlfriend, Sif, had been an extension of the family for so long she could hardly be considered a guest anymore, and Thor would probably be happy to eat off of the floor if the food tasted good enough. Which it would, if their mother was the one cooking.

"Loki," Frigga said firmly, "indulge your mother."

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the cupboard. "These plates all look the same to me."

"The company plates are the ones on the top left."

Loki was reaching up for the plates when Sif poked her head around the door, her long, dark ponytail swinging over her shoulder as her eyes landed on Frigga. "Is there anything you want me to help with?" she said.

"Oh actually, dear, would you mind fetching some wine? There's a bottle of Pinot noir in the cooler."

"Of course."

She slipped past Loki as he made his way into the dining room to set the table, and by the time he had finished Frigga was appearing in the doorway, serving platter in hand. The vast majority of Loki's memories of the woman involved a similar image; Frigga in one of an unlimited wardrobe of elegant dresses, sweeping gracefully through her own personal palace with enough food to feed a small army. And her tendency to overfeed had only worsened since all three of her sons had left home. She seemed to think the only time any of them ate was when they returned to the nest, and fed them accordingly. It was a wonder they managed to stay in shape, the amount of food they ended up eating whenever they came over for dinner.

"What smells so delicious?" Thor said, strolling in from the sitting room with their father and pressing a quick kiss to Sif's cheek before reaching for the plate of bread rolls on the table. The moment his fingers had closed around one Frigga landed a sharp slap on the back of his hand, as if scolding a naughty toddler. Some things never changed, he supposed.

"You can't wait ten seconds until everyone has sat down?"

Thor rubbed at his hand with a frown while they all took their seats at the table. "I could eat a horse," he protested, snatching the roll back as soon as he was sat in front of his plate. "I didn't eat lunch today to make sure I had plenty of room for your cooking."

"And that's a compliment indeed, mother; you know Thor's not one to ever miss a meal." Loki grinned sweetly at the look Thor shot him in response. He had to prise the serving dish of potatoes Thor had been about to hand him from Thor's fingers for the remark, but as revenge went, it was fairly tame — certainly compared to the things he would subject Loki to in their childhood when Loki's sharp tongue got the better of him.

Thor pointed at Loki with his fork, ignoring the piece of carrot that dropped off the end of it as he did so. "You would do well to follow my example."

"He's right, Loki; you do look terribly thin," Frigga said, worry creasing her brow while she studied Loki's face and Loki tried not to sigh too loudly. The number of times they'd had this conversation over the years, he knew every word that was coming. "Too many late nights at work. It's not good for you, you know."

"I'm perfectly well." He shovelled a potato into his mouth to demonstrate that fact and his eyes darted to Odin sat at the head of the table, searching his face for a reaction to the suggestion Loki was working too hard rather than the opposite. But Odin's attention was purposefully on his plate, his expression blank, so Loki turned back to his mother. The frown was still sitting firmly on her face. "I'm just a little stressed at the moment; that's all. I will technically be homeless for the next few weeks."

He had only been out of his apartment for three days, yet already Loki was keen to get back home. The hotel suite he was staying in while his penthouse underwent renovations was more than comfortable, though it just couldn't compare to getting home after a long day and collapsing into his own bed. He wouldn't have thought he could miss the place so much, given how little time he actually spent there.

"I don't see why you couldn't have stayed here," Frigga said. "There's more than enough room."

It wasn't the amount of space that was Loki's concern. He already spent upwards of twelve hours a day at work with Odin; even just a month of coming home to deal with him again was by no means an appealing prospect. He had no particular desire to relive his teenage years; sulking over yet another slight from his father back in his old bedroom that still looked exactly the way it did when he was 16 years old and they had first moved to New York. There were probably even the old issues of _Playguy_ still hidden under his mattress which he and his mother continued to pretend she'd never walked in on him looking at.

"He's a grown man, Frigga," Odin said, the first time Loki had actually heard him speak all evening. He had already been home when Loki had arrived, and after a brief nod to acknowledge Loki's presence, Loki had headed straight for the kitchen to join his mother while Odin had turned his attention back to Thor. "He doesn't want to stay with his parents when he can afford his own hotel room."

"Besides, are you sure you don't just want me to stay because Balder isn't home for the summer this year?"

Thor cut in before Frigga could respond to Loki's question. "That's a point," he said, more food clinging precariously to the end of his fork as he gestured at Loki with it again and leant forward to meet Frigga's eyes. "I thought Balder was supposed to be back by now."

"He's decided to stay in Borneo for another week. Supposedly they've had a young orangutan at the sanctuary in the time he's been there that is about to be released to live among the others, and he wants to see it off."

"I'm surprised he's able to tear himself away at all," said Sif. "It sounds wonderful."

Frigga made a noise of agreement while she took a sip of her drink. Balder was smart enough to know better than to stay out there, though. If he so much as thought about it Odin would probably be on the next flight out to march Balder back to college himself.

"Of course, it means that once he does return he'll only be home for a few days before it's time to head back to school," Frigga continued with a sigh. "It would have been nice to have the family back together for a little longer than that."

Thor cleared his throat at that and shifted in his chair. "Speaking of family, Sif and I have an announcement."

At his words Loki gazed up from his dinner to study Thor's face. Had he finally decided to pop the question? Were that the case, though, Loki would have to wonder how much of it was motivated by the desire to marry Sif rather than just Thor's wish to silence their father's endless pestering on the subject. Part of him hoped they'd decided to skip the marriage entirely and were about to announce Sif's pregnancy instead. Odin would love that.

"We're getting married," Sif said.

Damn. Well, it had been a long shot.

Frigga clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress a squeal of delight. There hadn't been any need — the noise would have been lost among the booming laugh Odin let loose in that same moment. "It's about time," he said proudly.

"This calls for some champagne."

"Good on you, my boy," Odin went on as Frigga hurried back into the kitchen, and slapped a hand to Thor's shoulder. "Doing the honourable thing in settling down with a fine woman. People will be thrilled to hear the good news."

Of course. Loki rolled his eyes while he downed the last of his wine. Trust Odin's mind to go straight to the PR opportunities an engagement offered. Anything that made them look good made the company look good in turn, and that was all that mattered. The company was Odin's most favoured child, after all.

There would no doubt be public announcements and engagement parties to come; all meticulously plotted to show off what a happy, well-adjusted family they were and provide a distraction from Asgardia Technologies' less PR-friendly activities. Of which there were plenty — being one of the top weapons developers in the country came with its share of controversies, as much as Odin liked to insist it was all for the greater good. Loki had long suspected Odin stuck to that line more to help himself sleep better at night than to ease the public's concerns.

He was just setting his empty glass back on the table when Frigga returned with a bottle of Dom Pérignon and a set of champagne flutes, though as she moved to pour Loki a glass he held out a hand to stop her. "I shouldn't."

"A smart decision," Odin said. "You'll need a good head on your shoulders in the morning. What time is your appointment at Stark Industries?"

"9.30."

"And you're confident you can convince Stark of your proposal?"

Loki shrugged. "I succeeded in convincing you."

And if he could talk Odin round on a subject, how hard could Tony Stark be? Besides, he knew his idea was sound. They always were.

"I'd not say that you have me convinced yet. I still don't see any necessity in associating ourselves with Stark Industries. That Stark boy will drive the company into the ground before long, mark my words. We don't want to be tethered to them when it happens."

"Okay," Frigga cut in, saving Loki from launching into the same speech he'd given Odin half a dozen times before he'd agreed to Loki setting up a meeting with Tony Stark, "that's quite enough business talk at the table. We have more important things to focus on." She turned back to Thor and Sif as she sat down. "So, tell us everything."

With that, the topic of conversation was firmly back to Thor and Sif for the rest of the evening. Sif filled them in on the details of how Thor had proposed while they all finished eating, until they relocated to the family room and Loki left them to it. There was only so long he could bear to listen to their father telling Thor how proud he'd made them before he needed to escape.

He was washing the dishes when footsteps sounded over the conversation echoing in from the front of the house, and Loki gazed behind him to see Thor stepping into the room. "There is a dishwasher," he said as he came to stand beside Loki.

"I like doing it by hand," Loki replied, setting another plate on the draining board before turning back to Thor. "Congratulations."

Thor smiled warmly at him. "Thank you."

"You made the smart move, pinning Sif down before she realised she could find someone so much better."

That earned Loki a playful jab to the arm — one that still managed to set him off balance despite the relatively small amount of force Thor had tried to put behind it — and he met Thor's grin with one of his own.

"Better than me?" Thor scoffed. "She'll be searching a long time."

"You realise you two aren't going to have a wedding so much as an overblown exercise in public relations."

"Oh, yes," Thor said emphatically. "Father's already planning a press release to announce the engagement."

And it would no doubt be followed by official photographs and interviews with the happy couple, before it was time to repeat the process all over again after the wedding. The thought of eloping was probably an awfully tempting one for Thor right now.

He shook his head and sighed. "At least knowing you'll be the one having to deal with all of this next should bring me some comfort."

A strong urge to shudder overwhelmed Loki at that. It was an unnerving thought. And evidently his discomfort had shown on his face, judging by Thor's laugh that followed.

He'd never considered himself the type to settle down. He was too busy to devote time to a relationship, for one thing, if he ever did have the desire to do so. Though he had to admit there were times he'd look at what Thor had with Sif and feel a pang of envy — to say nothing of the physical intimacy he'd been starved of for so long.

Thor's hand patting Loki's back jogged him from his thoughts. "Sif and I are about to head home," he said. "I'll see you soon, brother."

"Goodnight."

Once Thor had left the kitchen Loki dried his hands and retrieved a slip of paper from his pocket. It was already crumpled and worn from the amount of times over the last week he had thumbed at it, toying with the idea of dialling the number scrawled across the page, before deciding against it and shoving the paper back into his pocket again, never quite able to simply throw it away. With a quick glimpse over his shoulder to make sure he was still alone, Loki retrieved his cell phone and finally made the call.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki tried not to jump at the knock at the door to his hotel suite. Nervous anticipation coiled in his stomach as he switched off the stock market report playing on the room's flat-screen television and crossed towards the door. This was perhaps an idiotic idea — one that could ruin him if it ever got out — but he was here now. There was no going back.

He'd been justifying the decision all evening since he'd made the call, telling himself it was just the one time, that he was hardly the first person to pay for sex and wouldn't be the last, yet there was still a voice at the back of his mind begging him not to go through with it. If his father ever found out about this, Loki wouldn't have to worry about his reputation — Odin would kill him first.

But that voice was quickly silenced when Loki opened the door.

The man stood surveying the hallway outside turned to Loki with a smooth smile. He looked surprisingly respectable; clean-shaven, his dark hair parted at the side, and clad in a neat pair of jeans and a black Oxford shirt under his jacket. He'd sounded intelligent enough on the phone, despite the Brooklyn accent, so Loki shouldn't have really been taken aback to find the whole affair wasn't nearly as seedy as he'd been expecting. But still, his mind had been conjuring up all sorts of disconcerting images while he'd been waiting for that knock at the door.

And to his relief the man couldn't have been further removed from them. He was attractive enough that if they'd met in a bar Loki would have been only too happy to bring him home, so was this really any different?

Well probably, yes, though Loki could pretend otherwise.

"Bucky?" he said.

"At your service," Bucky replied, and Loki pushed the door open wider and stood back.

"Come on in."

"Wow," he said as he crossed the threshold and looked around the room.

It was lavish, Loki had to admit. He really had no need for so much space, but then the same could be said of his apartment as well, he supposed. Yet no Odinson could live in a cramped, run-down apartment. Thor was the same, living in a home far bigger than was really necessary, though he did have Sif to make the place feel less empty. And at least this suite was still far more tasteful than some of the hotel rooms Loki had stayed in throughout his life; decorated in warm neutral tones with the occasional splash of gold and antique furniture filling the grand space. It was a world away from Loki's contemporary, minimalistically designed penthouse, but it was home for now.

"So are you in town on business or something?"

"This is just temporary, until I can move back into my apartment." Bucky nodded, his wide eyes still flicking across the furnishings. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"I probably shouldn't," he said as he turned back to face Loki, though he looked to be considering it, sucking on the inside of his cheek while he met Loki's eyes. "But what the hell?"

Loki rounded the bar in the corner of the room to pour them each out a glass of scotch while Bucky shrugged off his jacket and took a seat on the couch. His gaze immediately landed on the stack of biographies of Tony Stark and his late father Howard on the coffee table.

"You a fan?" He picked up the top book on the pile and flipped it over to scan the blurb before looking back up at Loki.

"Hardly," Loki replied. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard Stark's name uttered in the office or the family home without being followed by scorn. His father had had a great deal of respect for Howard, however grudging it may have been, but by all accounts, Tony was more of an embarrassment to the family name than a visionary. "I have a meeting at Stark Industries tomorrow. I thought I should do my research beforehand."

"Is that why you arranged to see me tonight, so you're good and relaxed before the big day?"

"I hadn't considered that." That was quite the additional benefit. If it worked, he might just have to book Bucky's services any time he had to make a presentation to Odin as well – though Bucky would have to be skilled indeed to work the kind of miracle it would take for his father to support Loki's ideas without a great deal of convincing.

"I hope you don't mind my saying, but you don't look like the type of guy who has to pay for it."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," replied Bucky. "I should've remembered – I've seen your picture in the papers before." Loki quirked an eyebrow at that, but before he could express his surprise that Bucky apparently bothered to read the business pages, Bucky spoke again. "So which is it: closeted or just curious?"

"Neither, really. My work leaves me little time to go out and meet people the old-fashioned way, and given my position, I can't really be spotted cruising gay bars for strangers to take home. I trust you'll be discreet about this," he added as he crossed the room to hand Bucky his drink.

"Of course," Bucky said seriously. "Don't worry; I'm not planning on selling my story to the press."

"You'd likely make a fair amount of money if you did." And could he really guarantee Bucky wouldn't, despite his word? Loki didn't get a bad feeling from Bucky, but he had lied to get what he wanted enough times to know just how easy it was.

This really was a bad idea. But now Bucky was here, Loki was finding it increasingly difficult to believe that. Bucky's shirt was just tight enough to hint at a muscled torso beneath it, and as he crossed his ankle over his knee Loki's eyes travelled along firm-looking thighs to linger at his crotch. He didn't want to imagine how long it would be before his next opportunity to sleep with anyone, and what were the chances he'd find them as attractive as he found Bucky? If he dismissed Bucky without going through with this he was certain to end up regretting it.

His gaze flicked back up to Bucky's face at his shrug. "I prefer the quiet life," Bucky said. "Besides, everyone's got needs. I don't want to be the kind of person who'd exploit that for my own sake."

Loki took a sip of his drink to hide the warm smile spreading across his face. It had been a long time since he'd met anyone as earnest as Bucky seemed. His mother and siblings were, perhaps, but other than that, most of the people Loki spent his time with weren't nearly as pleasant. Of course, it could have all been an act, though Loki wasn't quite jaded enough to let himself believe that.

He wanted to like Bucky. And he wanted to go to bed with him.

"Shall we get started, then?"

Bucky gulped down the rest of his drink in one mouthful and grinned again. "Good idea."

Loki set their glasses back on the bar while Bucky reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a small bottle of lube and a box of condoms, and Loki led the way into the bedroom. It was decked out in the same warm colour scheme as the main room, though Loki had yet to bother giving the room more than a cursory glance before climbing into the king-sized bed at the end of the day.

Bucky tossed his things onto the mattress, no need for them quite yet, and turned to pull Loki closer, his hand sliding up the back of Loki's neck into his hair as their lips met. He could taste single malt and recently chewed gum on Bucky's tongue once it had traced over Loki's bottom lip and slipped into his mouth. It was surprisingly intoxicating. Lust was already clouding Loki's thoughts, guiding his hands down Bucky's flanks towards his belt and filling his mind with images of Bucky far more appealing than the ones he'd been conjuring up before he'd laid eyes on him.

It was probably for the best that they broke apart to catch their breath in that moment. As hard as it was to keep himself away from those soft lips, just the thought of having Bucky's naked body pressed against his own was getting him too worked up. At this rate he'd likely come at just a touch from Bucky. He'd never had any problems or complaints about his performance before, but then if he was desperate enough to pay for Bucky's services for an evening, what was to say he wouldn't also be desperate enough to climax before they even started?

He really should have taken care of himself before Bucky arrived. Though before he could curse himself for that oversight, Bucky moved back, stepping out of his boots as he unbuttoned his shirt, and Loki began to undress as well, his eyes fixed on Bucky all the while. Flattering though Bucky's clothes were, they hadn't done his body justice, and once they had been tossed into a pile on the floor with Loki's own Loki drank in the sight of him appreciatively.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Bucky said. He was flashing Loki another toothy grin when Loki finally managed to drag his eyes up to Bucky's face.

"You should," replied Loki with a smile of his own.

Bucky moved in close again to press another kiss to Loki's lips, steering him back while Loki met it with equal enthusiasm until the backs of his legs hit the side of the mattress and they climbed onto the bed. After another brief kiss Bucky pulled back to meet Loki's eyes.

"How do you want to do this?"

"Fuck me."

He raised an eyebrow in response. "Yeah?"

"Is that strange?"

"Just uncommon," he shrugged. "Most guys are looking for a tight hole to fuck, you know?"

"Then this will be a nice change of pace for you, won't it?" Loki said smoothly, and Bucky responded by leaning forward over his body again to leave a trail of wet kisses up his neck. His hands brushed over Loki's torso as he did so and Loki closed his eyes, goosebumps pebbling his skin despite the warmth of Bucky's hands, holding his breath in anticipation as they slid further down his stomach. He'd forgotten how good it was just to have someone's hands on him again.

Bucky's lips disappeared from Loki's neck as his hands paused on Loki's hips, and Loki glanced up to watch him. He was looking back down at Loki curiously. "So you said you don't have time to meet people," he started, his finger tracing patterns across Loki's skin making it something of a challenge to pay attention to the words. "How long has it been since you last had sex?"

Loki let out a self-conscious laugh and dropped his head back into the pillow, to avoid meeting Bucky's eyes, if anything. He hadn't revealed just how dismal the state of his romantic life was to anyone before now. "A few years."

"Shit. You must be going crazy."

"I focus my energy elsewhere." It had been becoming increasing difficult to do so, though. And getting himself off in the shower during what little time he had to himself in the day didn't have quite the same effect as being with someone else. But hopefully he wouldn't have to worry about that for a while after tonight.

"Well," Bucky said, and Loki gasped when Bucky's hand wrapped around the base of his dick, "you are going to be so relaxed for your meeting tomorrow."

He started stroking Loki slowly, each drag of his hand pulling another ragged breath from Loki's lungs and sending his heart beating faster. His hands were rougher than Loki's, his touch gentler as he gradually got to grips with Loki's body — and God, Loki should have done this so long ago. His own hands travelled over every inch of Bucky's firm body he could reach while he rocked his hips into Bucky's fist, before closing his hand around Bucky's growing erection.

Bucky let out a soft moan in response. "Turn over," he said, pulling his hands away from Loki and giving him room to settle on all fours. His hands were back on him the moment he'd made himself comfortable, sliding up his thighs and gripping his arse to spread his cheeks open and brush his finger over his hole.

He prepared Loki quickly but carefully. As much as Loki could have savoured the feel of someone else's fingers inside him for a change, he was too anxious to get on with things and Bucky knew it. He bit his lip in anticipation when Bucky moved away to slip on a condom, lying flat on the mattress and doing his best not to rub himself against it as Bucky returned to kneel between his thighs and slowly entered him.

"Oh, fuck," he breathed, his fingers tangling in the bedsheets while Bucky filled him.

"Too much?"

"No," he said, shaking his head emphatically. "No, it's good."

And it felt even better when Bucky began to move. It was slow at first, Bucky sliding almost all the way out and gently pushing back inside him, but as Loki rocked his hips to meet his thrusts he quickly gained speed. He leant forward, hands on either side of Loki's torso and his lips grazing over Loki's spine as they moved together, their bodies already burning hot and growing damp with sweat. The sounds of their groans and heavy breathing were loud enough that Loki would have worried about what the guests in the next room could hear had it not felt too good for him to care, easily drowning out the slap of Bucky's skin hitting Loki's again and again, until Bucky pulled back to rest on his knees.

"So this meeting of yours," he started, and Loki twisted to lie on his side and meet Bucky's eyes, "what is it, a job interview?"

"A business proposal," replied Loki with some difficulty. With the head of Bucky's cock rubbing his prostate, it took a remarkable amount of concentration to think of anything else. "There's a billion-dollar military contract up for grabs at the end of the year; instead of competing for it, I thought it would be more beneficial for both companies to work together."

"Sounds like a good idea."

"With any luck Stark will agree." He closed his eyes and bit back a moan when Bucky curled an arm under Loki's thigh to hold him in place as he thrust deeper, his free hand sliding up Loki's side to tease his nipple between his fingers. Loki's own hand gripped Bucky's arse, feeling it tense and release beneath his palm with each fast movement. "I must say," he added once he'd reengaged some of his higher brain power, "it's a surprise you know who I am."

"I read."

" _The Wall Street Journal_?"

Bucky shrugged. "I like to stay informed. Some of my clients, they aren't looking for sex; they just want someone to have a conversation with."

"That seems like something of a waste," he said, and a sharp moan burst from his lips, his toes curling as Bucky switched back to shallow thrusts against his prostate.

Oh, this was so worth the wait. And perhaps it was for the best that he was unlikely to do it again in the near future — with the memory of this night fresh in his mind, he couldn't imagine anyone else being anything but a terrible disappointment. He didn't even care if Bucky's sounds of pleasure were exaggerated; his own weren't.

His dick was aching with its need to be touched, but before he could loosen his grip on the bedsheets beneath him to reach for it Bucky was already taking him in hand again. He moved faster this time, bringing Loki closer and closer to the edge, the tension rapidly building within him. He was almost there; he was almost—

Loki didn't even attempt to hold on any longer. He came with a cry, his body rigid, and collapsed breathless back onto the mattress while Bucky pulled out of him. The air felt uncomfortably cold against Loki's sweat-covered thighs once Bucky moved away, but putting some clothes back on meant getting cleaned up first, and that required more energy than Loki could muster. It was some effort just to open his eyes to watch Bucky climb off the bed.

"Don't you want me to take care of that?" he said, gesturing weakly at Bucky's erection.

"You don't have to."

He forced himself up onto his elbow and pulled Bucky closer. "I want to." Bucky was shooting him an odd look when Loki glanced up at him, as if he was somehow surprised to have Loki's hand wrapped around his cock. "What is it?"

"It's just not how this usually goes."

"It's not?" he said, arching an eyebrow as he spoke.

"It ain't my orgasm you're paying for."

"Where's the fun if you don't get to have one as well?" He flicked his tongue out over the head of Bucky's cock before closing his lips around it, sinking down as far as he was able and bobbing his head. It had been some time since he'd done this, but he didn't seem too rusty. At any rate, it wasn't long before Bucky was spilling across his tongue, his fingers digging in to Loki's shoulders as he let out a low groan above him, so he had to have been doing something right.

"Thanks," Bucky said breathlessly while Loki dragged the back of his hand across his lips and they shared a grin.

"My pleasure."

He was refreshed enough by now to shuffle into the bathroom to clean himself up, watching through the open doorway as Bucky dressed again, the sweat still drying on his skin just catching the light and highlighting his toned frame before it disappeared beneath his clothes. Loki threw on the soft bathrobe hanging from a hook on the bathroom wall and walked Bucky back to the front door.

Bucky pulled him in for another quick kiss as Loki reached for the door handle, and once he'd pulled it open Loki handed over a wad of folded bills. Bucky's hand lingered on Loki's for a moment after he'd taken it from Loki's fingers. "That was fun," he said, and stepped out into the hallway. "Maybe we'll do it again sometime."

Now that certainly was a tempting idea. Loki chewed on the inside of his lip while he watched Bucky make his way down the corridor. "What are you doing tomorrow night?" Loki called after him, and Bucky spun on his heel to face him, still backing away towards the lifts as he shot Loki a smile.

"I'm all yours."


	3. Chapter 3

Stark Tower was an eyesore. According to Loki's father, at least. Personally, he couldn't see what was so offensive about it. It certainly stood out, a tower of glass and steel stretching up high above the pre-war buildings surrounding it, though that was likely the intention.

Loki swallowed the last mouthful of his coffee — his second of the day yet still not enough to fully disperse the sleepy haze lingering over him — and tossed his cup into a nearby bin before stepping through the double doors into the bright lobby. There was an impeccably well-dressed woman with strawberry blonde hair walking towards him before he could even reach the front desk.

"Mr. Odinson," she said with a polite smile as she held out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Pepper Potts, Mr. Stark's personal assistant."

Of course. He recognised her voice from when they'd spoken on the phone. She wasn't quite what he'd pictured, though. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Ms. Potts."

"The pleasure's mine," she replied, folding her arm back over the tablet she held. It was marked with _'Stark Industries'_ in oversized letters, just as every other one of the company's inventions was. "Shall we?"

She led him through the crowds of staff members and visitors, towards a lift that stood separate from the ones lining the opposite wall and absent the queue of people waiting to use it. In place of a call button there was a fingerprint scanner, and once Ms. Potts had pressed her thumb into it the doors slid open immediately.

"I've looked over your proposal," she said as they stepped inside and the carriage began to shoot up into the heights of the tower.

"You have?" That seemed far beyond the job description of a typical personal assistant.

She nodded. "You've certainly done your research."

"Thank you," replied Loki. "You seem surprisingly knowledgeable on the subject."

"It's my job to know everything Mr. Stark needs to know," she explained, "and quite a few things he has the luxury of not needing to concern himself with."

That had to be a fairly long list, Loki would imagine. Though Stark did like to boast loudly and frequently of only seeking the best; it seemed he'd found it in his choice of personal assistants. Loki had half a mind to try and tempt Ms. Potts away to work for them instead. His father would certainly be grateful for it.

"I wonder if the title 'personal assistant' greatly undervalues the work you do," he said.

She smiled and shot him a look that said he had no idea how right he was.

Before either of them could speak again, the doors opened to a quiet seating area, cream and rich mahogany replacing the somewhat clinical look of the lobby, the plush sofas looking out on a stunning view of the Chrysler building. Ms. Potts gestured for Loki to take a seat once they'd stepped into the room.

"Mr. Stark will be with you in a moment," she said. "Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

She nodded and disappeared down the hall, leaving Loki to gaze out of the large windows, half-listening to the radio piping into the room just loud enough to be heard over the water feature bubbling away in the corner. Loki stifled a yawn and rifled through his briefcase to go over the last minute notes he'd made after Bucky had left the night before. It wasn't enough to make any real difference to the strength of his proposal, though he'd rather have them fresh in his mind all the same.

A few minutes later the sound of heels clicking on hardwood floor echoed through the room, and Loki looked up to see Ms. Potts returning. "Mr. Odinson," she said, and Loki followed her back down the wide corridor to the open set of doors to Stark's office.

Tony Stark was stood in the open space behind the white leather chairs to the left of the doors, his attention focused on the holographic screen in front of him, flicking at the designs on display and muttering under his breath. At the sound of their footsteps he turned to face them, and with a swipe of his hand the plans disappeared, along with the eerie blue glow the screen cast over the room.

"So you're the littlest Odinson," Stark said, eyeing Loki without any semblance of subtlety as Ms. Potts closed the doors and left them to it. "Not what I pictured. What happened, they found you in a basket on the doorstep and decided to call you their own?"

Something like that. Though Loki wasn't about to delve into the particulars. He followed Stark across the room and took one of the seats in front of the desk while Stark moved to sit down in front of him. He was shorter than Loki had been expecting, but he held himself with the same confidence and command Loki had witnessed whenever he'd seen Stark speak in public.

"This is your work?" Stark continued as he lifted the folder Loki had dropped off weeks before, once he had finally managed to arrange an appointment with Stark. He gave it a cursory flip through, too fast to actually absorb any of the information inside, though whether he'd actually read through it before Loki's arrival or Ms. Potts had simply filled him in on the main points, Loki couldn't tell. "You're eager to please, I'll give you that much."

"I like to be thorough."

"Yet all the figures and statistics in the world won't convince me I should agree to collaborating with Asgardia Technologies."

"Losing out on this contract will be a blow to either company," Loki said. "Not only would working together be a much-needed dose of good press, but it would erase the risk, and keep the shareholders happy."

"I'm not big on cooperation."

"And how does that attitude serve you in business?"

He glanced around the sprawling office with a shrug that said it all. Though he was hardly in the position to take credit; he'd merely succeeded in keeping the company his father had built from the ground up afloat. That wasn't too great an achievement in Loki's book.

"You realise your proposal only suits me if it's unlikely Stark Industries will be the one awarded this deal," he continued.

Loki quirked an eyebrow. "Awfully confident, aren't we?" He should have expected as much, really. The only thing Stark seemed to think more highly of than his company was himself.

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"You aren't the only one with friends in the military—"

"Yeah, we're all well aware of Daddy Dearest's war record," Stark cut in, though Loki carried on without acknowledging his words.

"—And Stark Industries' sudden focus on humanitarian pursuits doesn't lend itself particularly well to weapons development. Tell me, have your stock prices recovered yet?" He smiled sweetly, hoping it looked more like friendly concern than the smugness he was feeling, and Stark sat back in his chair and regarded Loki silently. If he'd underestimated Loki before, he was certainly paying attention now.

"Besides," Loki added with a shrug, "you know you're interested in getting a look at our technology."

"I could get as long a look as I want if I bought out the company."

"We're not in any position to need to be bought out." And it certainly wouldn't be to Stark Industries if they were. Still, he almost had to admire the man's audacity. Not many could pull it off with the practised ease Stark did.

"I can wait. Old man's gotta be retiring soon, right?"

"Please," Loki scoffed. "He'll still be running the company from his deathbed."

Something flashed in Stark's eyes at that, and he shifted in his chair, leaning forward against his desk to stare at Loki with razor sharp focus. "You don't sound thrilled by that prospect."

"We aren't here to discuss me."

"No, we're here to discuss a proposal built on a foundation of ifs and maybes. You're impressive, kid, but you're wasting your time." He stood as he spoke, letting Loki know in no uncertain terms that their meeting was over. "Let's let the better company come out on top."

"If you insist. I'm sure Stark Industries will recover from the loss."

Stark smiled at him as Loki got to his feet, humour glittering in his eyes. "Say hi to your dad for me," he said, and Loki let himself out of the office, clutching the handle of his briefcase tightly enough to turn his knuckles white in his frustration.

That could have gone better.

Ms. Potts was chatting to another smartly-dressed woman clutching a Stark Industries tablet when Loki re-entered the waiting area, and she turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. "That was fast," she said, before understanding quickly settled on her features. "He rejected it out of hand, didn't he?" There was more than a subtle trace of exasperation in her voice.

"It sounds as if he does that often."

She smiled in response. "I wouldn't give up hope just yet," she said while they stepped back into the lift. "Knowing Tony, in a few days he'll decide it's a good plan and we should go ahead with it."

"He likes to keep people on their toes, I see."

"I think he just likes to believe it was his idea."

Ms. Potts shot him another exasperated look as she spoke, though there was something fond in the expression. Of course, you probably had to have some level of affection for Tony Stark to survive working in such close quarters with him without going insane.

Once they reached the lobby they made their way back through the crowd that had only slightly dispersed in the time Loki had been upstairs towards the front doors. "I imagine I'll be speaking with you again soon, Mr. Odinson," Ms. Potts said, offering Loki another warm smile as she held out her hand again. Loki took it and bade her goodbye, slipping back out into the foot traffic to make his way to Asgardia Technologies' own headquarters.

He was in no particular rush to get back — though he perhaps should have been; he didn't need to give his father more reason to be disappointed with him today — so Loki walked, probably slower than was really necessary, and he set foot in his own office some forty minutes later to find Thor already inside. He glanced up at Loki with a grimace that was most likely intended to be a smile.

"Rough night?" Loki said as he took in the sight of him, drooped in the sofa beside the door, dark circles under his eyes and a mug of strong-smelling coffee clutched tightly in his hand.

He groaned in response. That was a yes, then.

"We invited the boys over to tell them the news," he said, his voice full of regret. "There was some alcohol involved." He let out a long sigh while Loki tossed his briefcase onto his desk and shrugged off his blazer before sinking into his own chair. "Do you remember when I used to be able to stay out all night, drink everyone under the table and still be bright and cheerful the next day?"

"No, but I remember the mornings after painfully well." Just the thought was enough to make Loki grimace himself. Yet every time Thor would invite Loki on another night out, he had always been quick to agree. It was probably best for the both of them that Thor had eventually matured beyond his more hedonistic ways. "Old age is creeping up on you, brother."

He hummed his agreement as he raised his mug to his lips for a long drink. "Though I'm not the only one who had a late night, it seems," he said, and nodded towards Loki. "Is it too much to hope that a person is the cause of it rather than a stack of paperwork?"

"As much as I appreciate your not at all invasive interest in my personal life, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"I just want to see you happy," Thor replied. "You know, there's a colleague of Sif's—"

"No."

Thor opened his mouth to argue, but the icy stare Loki shot him kept him from pressing the subject. He closed his mouth again and slouched even lower in his seat with a defeated huff.

Was this what it had come to now, that people were trying to set him up on blind dates? Well-intentioned though it may have been, Loki would rather stab his own eyes out than have his family arrange dates for him out of pity. Even if he'd not had the night he'd had — with the promise of another to come — to satisfy his baser needs, his answer would have been the same. The last thing he had time for was a relationship.

"Is there some purpose to your dropping by?" he said. "I'm already set to be father's least favourite person; I don't need to be seen slacking off or keeping you from your work on top of it."

"Your meeting at Stark Industries didn't go to plan?"

Loki shook his head.

"Pity. It was a good idea." He stood and rounded the desk to rest a comforting hand on Loki's shoulder, his expression pinched as he looked down at him. That didn't bode well. "Father's waiting to see you in his office."

And there it was. As if this morning couldn't get any better.

Thor shot him a sympathetic smile at Loki's sigh. "Come and find me later; I'll take you to lunch," he said before turning to head back out of the door. "Well, I have a morning's worth of phone calls to make. Good luck."

He was going to need it. Loki stared after Thor strolling out of Loki's office and down the corridor for a moment, steeling himself before he pushed himself up out of his chair and made his way to his father's office five floors above his own.

Odin's office was expansive; bigger even than Stark's, though it was much more welcoming despite its size, perhaps because it was decorated with the same rich colours and antique furniture the family home was. Given how much time his father spent here, that was probably to be expected. Though one thing that couldn't be replicated was the warmth his mother's presence offered.

Odin was sat at his desk, the phone pressed to his ear, and Loki stood in the doorway trying his best not to feel like he was an errant child awaiting punishment, until his father ended his phone call and finally turned to look at him.

"I presume from the fact you didn't come bounding in here the moment you arrived to proudly announce your success that Tony Stark didn't agree to your proposal," he said as he nodded for Loki to sit down.

"There's still time to sway him to the idea."

"You'll do no such thing. We do not go begging for scraps from Stark Industries."

Loki nodded. If this was just a discussion of how to move forward after Loki's meeting with Stark, perhaps it wouldn't be so painful. Odin didn't look angry — he didn't look much of anything, in fact, his expression blank as he stared back at Loki. That could be a good sign. He hoped.

"Well you didn't particularly want this deal to go through, anyway," Loki said.

"I didn't want you to attempt it in the first place," he snapped in response. Of course. When had Loki ever been so lucky to just have a simple conversation with his father? "I certainly didn't want you to go chasing after Tony Stark in the name of Asgardia Technologies only for him to laugh in our faces."

What faith he had in Loki to assume such. If only he could actually argue that that wasn't what had happened. Though he couldn't help but wonder how different Odin's reaction would have been if it was Thor sat in Loki's place. Attempting to make a deal with Stark Industries would always be a risk, he knew, but somehow he doubted Odin would have expected it to fail had Thor been the one to attempt it.

He didn't put voice to those thoughts, though. They'd long since exhausted the subject; there was no point in dredging it up again now. "Then why agree to it?" Loki said instead.

"I thought the responsibility would be good for you." He shook his head, as if he should have known he couldn't trust Loki, and Loki bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself silent. Twenty-seven years old and Odin was still talking to him the same way he did when he and Thor were children and begging for a dog, promising they were responsible enough to care for it if Odin would only let them. Pathetic.

But if Odin intended to say anything more on the subject, he fell silent when there was a knock at the door and his secretary walked in with an armful of papers for him to look over. "I suppose you gleaned nothing to clue us in as to what they're dreaming up over at Stark Industries," he said, his attention thankfully now focused on something other than Loki. He always used to hate how often his father was distracted by his work whenever Loki tried to speak with him, yet now he was glad for the brief respite from Odin's judgemental gaze.

"I didn't realise corporate espionage was part of my job description."

Odin said nothing in response. He didn't even look up at Loki, instead continuing to skim the documents in front of him, scribbling his signature wherever he was pointed.

Loki sighed. "I noticed some blueprints Stark quickly swept aside as I stepped into his office," he said. "It appeared to be some kind of flight suit."

Odin finally met his eyes again at that. "A flight suit?" he echoed thoughtfully. "You're certain?"

"No, but I can't imagine what else it could have been. It was too bulky to be simple body armour."

"Well that's promising, at least." He turned to his secretary still standing beside his desk. "Do we have any flight suits in development?"

"I'll check in with R&D."

"Thank you," he said, and she made her way back to the door, holding it open for Loki once Odin had dismissed him with another nod.

Loki slowly headed back down to his own office, dejection weighing heavy in his limbs, and flopped down onto the sofa that doubled as his bed more often than his actual bed served the purpose. He should have known better than to try and meet with Tony Stark. It had been foolish to think he could convince him to work together, to think his father would be pleased to see Loki taking the initiative, to think he might actually be able to make a name for himself as something other than one of the famed Odin Borson's children.

His phone buzzed in his pocket before Loki could be completely swallowed by his growing melancholy, and he lifted his head just enough to glance at the notification flashing up on the screen. It was a text from Bucky. A small smile tugged at Loki's lips as he read it.

_'Still on for tonight?'_

God, yes. _'Definitely,'_ Loki typed rather than revealing just how excited he was by the prospect. _'Same time, same place?'_

_'You got it. See you then.'_

The smile was still on Loki's face when he slid his phone away again. At least the thought of seeing Bucky again tonight would help him get through the rest of the day.


	4. Chapter 4

Loki's spirits hadn't much lifted by the evening. He'd managed to keep to himself for most of the day, buried away in his office under a pile of paperwork that had been demanding his attention all week, though that had had the unfortunate side effect of letting him stew over the morning's events until his body was still taut with tension more than an hour after he'd left the office. It was only Bucky's imminent arrival that kept Loki from crawling into bed and not emerging again until Monday morning.

He'd had half a mind to call it off, too miserable to even think about sex, and even now he considered calling Bucky to cancel. Yet when that knock at the door came Loki practically leapt to his feet with excitement, and he crossed the room in three quick strides to let Bucky inside.

"Hey," Bucky said once Loki had opened the door, that smooth smile on his face which Loki was beginning to suspect was never absent for long, and Loki met it in kind before his eyes flicked up and down to take in the rest of him. His hair was flattened down against his head, beads of water dripping from the ends, trickling down the sides of his face and clinging to the fabric of his navy peacoat.

"Is it still raining?"

"Yeah." He stepped into the main room and shrugged out of his coat with an oversized shiver. "Looks like summer's on its way out. How was your meeting?"

"Don't ask."

Bucky winced in response. "That bad, huh?"

"'Bad' would be putting it lightly."

"That sucks. You want to talk about it?"

That was the last thing he felt like doing. "Actually, I think I'd rather push it as far from my mind as possible."

The grin returned to Bucky's face at those words. "Well that I can help with," he said. "Shall we?"

He held out his hand and Loki took it, letting Bucky pull him through the bedroom doorway and down into a kiss. But not even Bucky's soft lips against his, nor his hands sliding gently up Loki's flanks, did anything to ease the stress that had been weighing on him since the morning.

"You are tense," Bucky said once he'd pulled back from Loki's lips. He ran his hands down Loki's arms, his lips pursed in thought before a smile played across them. "Get on the bed."

Loki obliged, a grin of his own working across his face at the authority in Bucky's tone, kicking off his shoes and making himself comfortable in the centre of the mattress. He didn't take his eyes off of Bucky, stood at the foot of the bed stripping off his t-shirt and jeans to reveal that sculpted body once again.

He climbed onto the bed himself, crawling between Loki's legs to kiss him again while his fingers made fast work of Loki's shirt buttons. There was a slight chill in the air that Loki hadn't noticed until his torso was exposed to it, though he was too focused on Bucky's hands, moving to the waistband of his trousers and tugging them down until he was laid out completely bare before him, to pay it any mind. When his body was finally beginning to relax enough to enjoy this, the bedroom could be burning down around them for all he cared.

Bucky worked his way down Loki's body as Loki hardened beneath him, savouring every inch of it until he was hovering over Loki's cock, showering it with gentle licks and kisses while his finger slid inside him. He moved with expert precision, his touches designed not to get Loki off, but to simply make him feel as good as possible for as long as he could. And oh, was it working.

Pleasure steadily washed away the memories of Loki's day until he was gyrating against Bucky's hand in blissful ignorance of everything but the heat building within him. Eyes closed to shut out the rest of the world, Loki had no idea how long Bucky had been between his legs. He didn't particularly care, either. He just didn't want it to stop. But eventually the blissful tension coiling in Loki's abdomen reached breaking point and, hands fisted in the bedsheets and toes curling, he came with Bucky's name on his lips.

"Feel better?" Bucky said once he'd straightened, and Loki cracked his eyes open to glance down at him. His own cock was straining against the fabric of his underwear, though Loki didn't have the energy to reach out and take care of it just yet.

He let out a breathless laugh in response. "Oh, I'll say."

Bucky smiled proudly and moved over to allow Loki up. His body fought him all the way, wanting nothing more than to curl up and fall asleep, but he managed to climb off of the bed and shuffle into the bathroom. Loki didn't dare glance up at his reflection in the oversized mirror hanging above the sink while he cleaned himself up. He could already imagine how dishevelled he looked, though he didn't suppose Bucky would mind. Still, he splashed some cold water on his face and slid his hands through his hair in an attempt to smooth it back down again before returning to the bedroom.

He stepped through the doorway to find Bucky stood at the window, gazing out at the sliver of Central Park visible from the bedroom. "Flashing the neighbours?" Loki said as his eyes trailed down to drink in the view of Bucky in his tight shorts. His eyes only lingered for a second, though, before Bucky spoke.

"What neighbours?" he said. "You're on top of the world up here." He glanced over his shoulder to meet Loki's eyes while Loki came to join him. "When are you allowed back in your place?"

"In about three weeks, all being well."

"Man, I would hate to be kicked out of my own home that long. You must be going crazy to get back."

Bucky didn't know the half of it, though Loki only hummed noncommittally in response. "I will miss these views, though," he said. Even if he hadn't had much time to actually enjoy them yet. "It makes quite the change from the sea of buildings I get to stare at from my apartment."

With one last quick glance at Bucky gazing almost in wonder at the city beneath them, Loki pulled himself away, heading back into the main room to fetch a drink without bothering to slip some clothes on again first. He was hardly underdressed when Bucky was almost as bare as he was.

"You should come stay at my place," Bucky said as he followed Loki, reaching out for the bottle of water Loki offered him with a nod of gratitude before taking a sip. "You get a great view of the next building's rooftop from my bedroom. Pretty sure someone's trying to grow weed up there."

"It sounds like I'm missing out."

"You've got no idea." He turned back to gaze across the room, giving it a more thorough inspection than he had the night before, until his eyes landed on the baby grand piano in the corner. "May I?" he said, gesturing to it as his feet already began to carry him across the room towards it.

"You play?" Loki had never imagined Bucky as being particularly creative — though the ways he had been imagining Bucky since they'd met had been decidedly singular in nature, admittedly. He crossed the room after Bucky and took a seat beside him while Bucky's fingers experimentally pressed a few keys.

"A little," Bucky replied. "A friend of mine used to have this old upright piano in his apartment when we were kids. I practically lived there, so I got a lot of time to practise."

Loki laughed. "Would your own parents not have you?"

"Well my dad worked long hours," he said with a shrug, his eyes still on the piano as he continued to poke at random keys, "so after I lost my mom I'd stay there 'til he got home."

His voice was casual, yet still the revelation threw Loki. He sat chewing on the inside of his cheek awkwardly, unsure of how to respond, though luckily Bucky soon gave him something else to focus on.

He'd finally started playing — if it could be called that — something that sounded vaguely recognisable, but it was such a mangled rendition it was tough for Loki to put his finger on what exactly it was Bucky was attempting to play, and he was too busy trying to keep his wincing to a minimum to worry about offering insincere and likely unwanted words of sympathy.

"Okay," Bucky said with a laugh when he thankfully pulled his hands away from the keyboard, "I might've overestimated my skill some."

"Some?"

At Loki's teasing grin Bucky narrowed his eyes, though he couldn't keep the smile from his own lips. "All right," he said, "let's see you do better."

"That won't be difficult." He shifted to make himself comfortable and after a second staring down at the keyboard to familiarise himself with it again, Loki began to play one of the few pieces he could still more or less remember from his childhood. He could have only played a handful of times since. As soon as he'd reached his teen years anything that wouldn't one day aid him in his career at Asgardia Technologies had become strictly unnecessary.

"Oh, are you kidding?" Bucky said in disbelief.

"My mother insisted on teaching us to appreciate the arts before we were sucked into my father's soulless world," Loki explained. "Of course, my older brother would never sit still long enough to learn an instrument, so she focused her efforts on me." His eyes flicked down to the keys again when his finger landed on the wrong note, though Bucky didn't seem to notice he'd made a mistake. "It's a deceptively simple piece. Don't tell anyone."

Bucky gave a warm laugh at that. "Your secret dies with me," he said, before his eyes trailed down Loki's body. "So, you ready to go again?"

That he definitely was. Had Bucky not been sat at the piano bench beside him it would have gone tumbling backwards, the speed Loki got to his feet. Bucky was up straight after him, his lips on Loki's neck as they made their way to the couch. Once Loki had sunk down onto it, arms wrapped around Bucky's neck and their mouths together, Bucky broke the kiss to pull back.

"Stay here," he said, before heading back into the bedroom. Loki sat back, legs spread, feet resting on the coffee table in front of him, stroking himself hard until Bucky returned. He'd left his underwear in the bedroom, and crossed towards Loki again with the bottle of lube in one hand and a condom foil in the other, and as soon as he was within reach Loki plucked the foil from between his fingers. It only took a few licks and touches before Bucky was hard enough for Loki to roll the condom on, and the moment he had Bucky's hand was cupping the back of Loki's head, tilting it back as he leant down to tease the seam of Loki's lips with his tongue.

Once they'd broken apart again Loki sat back, his legs spread wider and lips quirked in a silent prompt. And Bucky was quick to take the hint. He pushed inside slowly, with more care than necessary, but Loki dropped his head back against the couch and groaned at the sensation all the same.

To think he'd almost called this off... That would have been the stupidest decision he'd made all day — and after the day he'd had, that was an impressive feat.

Bucky knelt on the couch cushions to steady himself as he started to move, warm hands on Loki's hips, his thighs pressed tight to the backs of Loki's own and forcing them up until his knees were almost touching his shoulders. "You good?" he said.

"Yes," Loki replied, though the sound was more a groan than anything. Any discomfort he felt was more than worth it for this. "Don't stop."

He threw his arm around the back of Bucky's neck, pulling him down to share clumsy kisses as they writhed against each other, the sound of rain pelting the windows from another downpour easily drowned out by their heavy breathing and moans and the wet sounds of lips against each other's skin. God, It was even better than the first time. Maybe it always was, though it had been so long since Loki had spent more than one night with anyone his memories of it were somewhat foggy.

He had far better things to think about in that moment, anyway.

Loki's hand flew up to the backrest of the couch, knuckles surely turning white he gripped it so hard, while Bucky pounded into him. His muscles were aching from the strain of holding his thighs up for so long, but he still managed to wrap them tightly around Bucky's waist to keep him from pulling out. A sharp groan burst unrestrained from his lips when Bucky thrust into him even harder.

"Too much?" he said.

Loki could only shake his head in response, circling his hips against Bucky's as he felt his body grow taut, his cock dribbling precum in messy puddles over his stomach. And Bucky didn't seem much more composed himself; his movements were becoming increasingly frenetic, harsh breaths falling from his parted lips as he squeezed his eyes shut in concentration.

"Do you want to come?"

"Yeah," Bucky gasped.

"Do it."

He opened his eyes and looked back down at Loki in surprise, sweat beading on his skin and hips falling still. "You sure?"

Loki nodded, one hand grasping at Bucky's behind to encourage him to start moving again, and Bucky wrapped his own hand around Loki's cock. He stroked Loki quickly until his movements came to an abrupt stop and he lurched forward with a moan.

His hand gripping the backrest was the only thing keeping Bucky upright, his thumb curling around Loki's as he caught his breath, and after a moment Bucky pulled out to sink to his knees. With one quick glance up at Loki, Bucky dipped his head and finished him in his mouth.

Loki's breath tore from his lungs in ragged pants as he came down from the high of his own orgasm, heart thundering in his chest and legs tingling uncomfortably when he lowered his feet back to the soft carpet, and after arching his back to soothe the slight ache in his spine he glanced over at Bucky tossing his condom into the waste basket.

"You're welcome to use the shower if you want to get cleaned up," he said, and Bucky looked back at him with a smile.

"Actually it's getting pretty late," he replied. "I should head home."

Loki didn't bother to move while Bucky headed back into the bedroom to dress, finally finding the energy to peel himself up off of the couch when Bucky returned and crossed the room towards the door. He probably should have thrown on a bathrobe at least before standing in the open doorway to see Bucky off, though there were a great many things about this whole affair that he shouldn't have been doing. Accidentally flashing one of the hotel's other guests wasn't high on his list of concerns.

"I'll look forward to seeing you again soon," Bucky said, and Loki smiled while he watched Bucky stroll down the corridor until he dropped out of sight. The feeling was certainly mutual. Yet as Loki stepped back inside and climbed into the shower, he couldn't help feeling the tiniest pang of sadness that he'd be spending the rest of the night alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky Barnes had been called a lot of things in his time. Some good. Some bad. Most wildly inaccurate. But one thing he'd never been called was a morning person. Most days once he'd managed to drag himself out of bed he was a different creature entirely from his usual laid back self, and anyone who knew him knew it was best to steer clear until there was some caffeine in his system. This morning, though, he was wide awake in an instant, eyes open and frowning at the bright sunlight filling the room as soon as he was conscious.

It was the smell that did it: a faint scent of wood polish that definitely did not belong in his apartment. He and his roommate Steve had lived there since they'd graduated college, and he was pretty sure they hadn't bothered to polish their floors once in that time.

Once he'd adjusted to the light Bucky brought his hand back from his eyes, gazing through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the opposite wall at the Manhattan skyline. It was then that he remembered whose bed he'd ended up in. And sure enough, when he twisted to glance over his shoulder Loki was curled up asleep next to him, his hair a black mess against the white sheets, pale skin bright in the sunlight.

Shit.

Bucky had seen Loki almost every night he'd been working over the last few weeks — plus one or two he hadn't meant to be, though spending the evening with Loki had seemed like more fun. But never once in that time had Bucky ended up falling asleep beside him. He'd never even spent the whole night with a one night stand before, let alone a client, for crying out loud. He might have liked Loki well enough, but he wasn't Bucky's boyfriend. They weren't even friends, not really. This was crossing a line.

The sudden sound of Loki's alarm clock beeping startled Bucky from his thoughts. Loki flung his arm out to hit the snooze button with a groan and rolled back onto his side as the room fell silent again. He cracked his eyes open, blinking a few times against the light, before peering up at Bucky.

"Good morning."

"Morning," Bucky said with an awkward smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to stay."

Loki didn't seem bothered, though, as much as he seemed anything but still tired. He waved a hand in some lazy half-gesture, eyes slipping closed again, while Bucky pushed himself up and prepared to make a hasty exit. "I don't mind."

Well that was some comfort, at least. And honestly, he wouldn't have really expected Loki to be too upset about Bucky staying — if anything, he got the impression Loki was lonely enough to just enjoy the company — but still, the last thing Bucky wanted to do was take liberties with him.

He'd climbed off the bed and was scouring the floor trying desperately to remember where exactly in Loki's huge apartment they'd ended up tossing their clothes the evening before when Loki finally forced his eyes open again and sat up. "Do you want some breakfast?" he said.

"I'd better get out of here," replied Bucky as he spotted his underwear wedged behind the suitcase Loki hadn't bothered to unpack yet sitting beside the door and snatched them up. "Where's your bathroom?"

"The door to your right."

With a grateful nod Bucky slipped out of the bedroom, pausing on his way into the bathroom to peer down at the large open-plan space below. The rest of his clothes were thrown carelessly over the back of Loki's couch, and he hurried down the stairs to retrieve them before heading to the bathroom to try and clean himself up as best he could. He should still have time to get home and take a shower, though he wasn't about to join the commuters on the subway looking as dishevelled as he did now.

He could hear Loki's voice coming quietly from downstairs when he stepped out of the bathroom again a few minutes later, speaking on the phone or maybe just muttering to himself while he made breakfast, Bucky couldn't really be sure. But once he'd made his way down the stairs and rounded the corner he found his answer.

It wasn't a particularly good one.

"Oh," Bucky said as an older woman stood with Loki in the entryway to the apartment turned to look back at him. And boy, was Bucky glad he'd already put his clothes back on. He didn't know the woman — if he had to guess she was probably a colleague of Loki's, based on how well-dressed she was — but whoever she was, Bucky doubted she'd take too kindly to finding him half-naked and apparently emerging from Loki's bedroom. "Hi."

For a second, the woman looked almost as surprised to see Bucky, before her expression melted into a smile. "Loki, you didn't tell me you had company," she said as she glanced over at Loki, luckily missing the panic that had briefly flitted across his face.

"I was just leaving, actually," said Bucky.

"Not on my account, I hope."

"Hadn't you better be on your way as well, mother?" Loki cut in with a tight smile.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at that. "You're Loki's mother?" he said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

The woman was tall and willowy as Loki was, Bucky supposed, and carried herself with the same air of refinement he'd always assumed Loki had had drilled into him at whatever fancy schools he'd been sent to. But other than that, the two couldn't have been more different, the warm glow of Loki's mother's skin and her golden hair a world away from Loki's almost deathly pallor.

"For the love of God, don't tell her she could be my sister," Loki said. From the way he cast his eyes to the ceiling while he spoke, he'd heard that line too many times over the years.

His mother gently swatted at his arm in response before turning to set the Tupperware box in her hand on the kitchen counter. And thankfully she didn't look too closely at the countertops before facing Bucky again. Even from here he could see the smudges and handprints he and Loki had left the evening before still marring the glossy finish, the results of their attempt to rechristen the penthouse now Loki had finally been allowed to move back in.

"I just don't see a lot of resemblance, that's all," Bucky said, and Loki's mother flashed him another warm smile.

"I imagine Loki's grateful for that." She held out a long-fingered hand for Bucky to shake, and as she did so the delicate bracelet on her wrist caught the light, diamonds twinkling with her movements. Bucky didn't know shit about jewellery, yet even he could tell when he was looking at a piece that probably cost more than he earned in a year. But then he had known long before now that Loki's family was rolling in it. "Frigga."

"James," Bucky replied, shoving his hands into his pockets once Frigga had released her grip and hoping he didn't look nearly as awkward as he felt. This was so much worse than running into one of Loki's co-workers. "Well I should really be going."

"Are you sure you won't stay for breakfast?" Frigga said. "I brought homemade pastries. Goodness knows Loki will never end up eating them all."

"It's tempting, but I'd better not show up late for work."

"Of course," she replied, while Bucky grabbed his coat draped over one of the barstools at the counter island and slipped it back on. "What is it you do, James?"

"I'm a carpenter."

"How wonderful." Frigga said as she beamed back at him. She was evidently thrilled by the prospect of her son meeting someone. Her excitement was understandable, he supposed; it had to have been years since Loki had been in a relationship — if he'd ever really had one. And maybe it wasn't ideal, letting Frigga believe there was something real between the two of them when she was obviously so invested in Loki's happiness, but it had to be better than telling her the truth. "What kind of carpentry do you specialise in?"

"Mother," Loki cut in, shooting her a pointed look when she glanced back at him. She sighed at him in response, but turned back to Bucky all the same.

"I'm sorry, James," she said, however much she might have wanted to keep on getting to know him. "Don't let me keep you."

"I'll see you out."

Loki was already making his way back to the door as he spoke, and after bidding Loki's mother goodbye, Bucky followed. Once the two of them were alone in the airy hall outside his apartment Loki turned back to face Bucky with a sly smile playing on his lips.

"I must say, I'm impressed," he said. "There I was scrambling to come up with some elaborate lie about who you were, and you beat me to it."

"Didn't need to," replied Bucky, slipping the neatly folded bills Loki handed him into his back pocket before reaching out to shake Loki's hand. "James Buchanan Barnes. Nice to officially meet you."

"And carpentry?"

He shrugged. "What, you think this is my day job?"

"I've never really thought about it," Loki said. He sounded surprised by that admission, but he quickly blinked away whatever thoughts it had brought to the front of his mind and met Bucky's eyes again. "Well, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again soon, Bucky."

"Looking forward to it." Bucky turned and took a step towards the elevators, but he didn't make it any farther before he was spinning on his heel to face Loki again. "You know," he started, ignoring the smarter part of his brain telling him not to, "there's this bar opening in Brooklyn tonight. I was thinking of checking it out, if you wanted to come with."

Loki looked a little taken aback by the question — which of course he would. It was supposed to be the client who asked the escort to accompany them somewhere, not the other way around. What the hell was Bucky doing? But after a moment Loki smiled.

"I'd like that."

"Great," Bucky said, and grabbed a pen from his pocket to scrawl the address on the back of an old receipt. "9 o'clock?"

Loki nodded as he took the slip of paper from Bucky's fingers.

"I'll see you tonight, then."

Bucky backed away again and this time he finally made it to the elevator, the smile he'd been fighting since Loki had agreed to join him tonight bursting across his lips as soon as the doors closed behind him. But however great he might have felt in that moment, his good spirits didn't quite survive until the evening.

This was a terrible idea.

Bucky folded his arms across his chest to shield himself from the growing chill in the air. His stomach roiling with anxious butterflies, he peered down the block, past the clusters of people heading into the bar or passing him on their way to wherever they'd be spending their evening, for the first sign of Loki approaching.

It was probably a bad idea to keep seeing Loki at all, considering how much Bucky had grown to look forward to their encounters. There had to be some ethical quandary to charging a man for sex when you'd just as soon be going home with him willingly. But then, there was nothing wrong with enjoying his job, was there? And this wasn't even work. One innocent drink; there was nothing wrong with that. Half the time he spent at Loki's it felt more like they were hanging out as friends anyway, so technically this wasn't really any different. Was it?

His thoughts quickly silenced when he spotted Loki stepping out of one of the cabs pulled up a little further down the street, clad in black jeans and a tight sweater under his jacket. It was a good look for him. He sure scrubbed up well in the pricey, finely-tailored suits he was usually wearing when Bucky saw him — when he was wearing anything at all — but it was a nice change to see him a little more dressed down. Of the three, though, Bucky knew which look he preferred.

He whistled appreciatively once Loki had neared. "You look great."

"I usually do," Loki replied, grinning back at Bucky in a way that suggested he wasn't entirely kidding, though Bucky wasn't about to argue that point.

They headed inside and shuffled through the crowds towards the bar along the far wall of the room. The place was certainly a popular spot tonight, people hovering awkwardly between the tables waiting for seats to become available or just giving up and making themselves comfortable leaning against the walls, though it wasn't all that much busier than most bars and clubs in New York City on a Friday night.

Once they'd joined the back of the queue, another gaggle of people immediately arriving behind them, Bucky turned to Loki. "What's your poison?" he said against Loki's ear to be heard over the music and constant murmur of conversation surrounding them.

"Gin and tonic. I'll find us somewhere to sit."

Bucky nodded and watched Loki slip away into the crowd, and after he'd eventually reached the bar to order their drinks Bucky headed back in the direction Loki had disappeared, scouring the room until he found Loki in a plush-looking booth nestled in the corner.

"You actually found a table?" Bucky said as he handed Loki his glass and took a seat opposite him. He'd half expected them to end up with the schmucks wandering aimlessly through the bar, staring daggers at the people lucky enough to get seats, though maybe it wasn't that surprising that Loki had managed to slither his way to a table.

"I had to murder a man." His face was completely deadpan as he spoke and Bucky grinned back at him, sliding out of his coat and making himself comfortable while Loki glanced around the bar. "This place is nice. I wouldn't have thought there was anyone in Brooklyn with such good taste."

"Watch yourself, buddy," Bucky replied, and Loki laughed, the wicked glint in his eye visible even in the muted light of the room.

He was right about one thing, though; it was a nice bar. A little gentrified for Bucky's liking, maybe, and more crowded than he typically preferred, but he'd expected as much, and the drinks were cheap enough to make up for it. The place wasn't likely to become his go-to haunt any time soon, though it was good to know there was another bar worth visiting this close to his apartment.

Of course, if tonight ended up being a total disaster it might put Bucky off ever returning.

"Is it customary to ask your clients out for drinks on your night off?" Loki said, echoing the thoughts that had been swirling through Bucky's mind all day.

"Definitely not," Bucky said. He was probably a little too emphatic, though when his eyes flicked back up to meet Loki's there was nothing but curiosity on his face. "But no-one's charging tonight."

"So tonight I get to glimpse the real James Barnes, do I?"

"It's a rare privilege."

"I imagine so." He smiled back at Bucky smoothly enough that Bucky could just picture him putting the charm on whatever bigwigs his job brought him into contact with, his stare surprisingly intense as he gazed at Bucky over the rim of his glass while he took a sip. "So," he said once he'd set his glass back down and began languidly stirring the ice cubes around with his straw, "why carpentry?"

"My uncle owns a shop; offered me a job after I finished college, so I took it."

"You enjoy it?"

"Yeah, actually." God knows Bucky had never thought he would. His life now was virtually unrecognisable from the plan he'd once had, the dreams he couldn't help but think back to every so often and wonder. But, hell, things could be a lot worse. "I'd go stir crazy sitting in an office all day. I don't know how you do it."

"Neither do I, at times."

Bucky paused, his beer bottle hovering at his lips as he watched Loki drain the rest of his own drink. His tone had been light-hearted enough, but there was truth in the words. "You never thought about doing anything else?"

Loki looked surprised by the suggestion. "No," he said, a light frown creasing his brow as if it was only occurring to him now that he'd ever had that option, "not really. The work itself, I enjoy; it's just..." He trailed off, apparently searching for the right words. But the things Loki had already revealed to Bucky after more than a few stressful days at work, Bucky had a good idea of where exactly Loki's problems lay. "There's a lot of pressure."

"I know a good way to deal with that."

Loki quirked an eyebrow, looking back up at Bucky with interest. "Oh?"

"Alcohol," he answered with a grin, and Loki chuckled in response. "Another round?"

"Let me."

He reached for his jacket stuffed onto the seat beside him, but Bucky was too quick for him, on his feet and cutting Loki off before he could retrieve his wallet. "I got it," Bucky said. "You've spent enough money on me these last few weeks."

"Well you have earned it." He shot Bucky a sly smile as Bucky slipped back through the crowd to the bar.

To his relief the wait wasn't nearly so long this time, most people between rounds or having the sense to just order a few pitchers and save on trips to the bar, and he was back making his way towards their table after only a couple of minutes. Loki was sitting with a contended look on his face when Bucky caught sight of him.

"I don't remember the last time I had such a good night out," he said once Bucky had slid back into the booth.

"Do you go out often?" Bucky had a feeling he already knew the answer to that question, though. It was hard enough for Loki to find time in his work schedule to fit Bucky in for a quick fuck, let alone spend an evening out in the city with friends.

"Not since my older brother's started to settle down."

"You don't have other friends?"

"There are people at work I'm friendly with, I suppose," Loki replied dismissively, doing his best to shrug off the question before Bucky could start feeling too sorry for him, "though not enough to really socialise outside of the office."

Bucky nodded. He wasn't going to patronise Loki with apologies or sympathy, though. He'd been on the receiving end of those same pitying looks since he was a kid; he knew damn well just how irritating it could be. Life is what it is. People's sympathy wouldn't do squat to change anything.

They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping their drinks and gazing out at the other people filling the bar, still jostling for seats and struggling to hold their liquor as they took advantage of the opening night prices, before Loki set his glass on the table loud enough to draw Bucky's eyes back to him. "I have to ask..."

"How'd I start turning tricks?" Bucky finished for him.

"Is that a question everyone has?"

"Comes up pretty often." He sat back in his seat, flicking at the label on his bottle as he stared back at Loki watching him. "It started as an easy way to make money in college."

"And you just never stopped?"

"Actually, it's only in the last year or so that I picked it up again," he explained. "My roommate's girlfriend pretty much lives with us already; it's only a matter of time before he asks her to marry him and she moves in for real. I want to be able to afford my own place when that happens."

"What do your romantic partners think of your career choice?"

Bucky let out a soft huff of laughter at that. Now there was a fun path to trudge down. But Loki's romantic life was about as lively as Bucky's, so if anyone would understand, it was him. "No romantic partners. It's been a while since I've really dated," he said, and when Loki looked back at him in surprise he shrugged. "Life kinda got in the way, you know?"

"All too well."

They sat chatting and drinking perhaps a little too much for what felt like far less time than it had to have been, completely absorbed in their conversation, until Bucky finally gazed back up at the room around them. It was still packed, though the crowd looked less dense, the first sign of the evening gradually beginning to wind down. Loki's sigh from the other side of the table was almost lost among the heated conversation still going strong in the booth next to theirs, but Bucky managed to catch it, turning back to see Loki checking his watch.

"I suppose I'd better call it a night," he said sadly.

"You work on Saturdays?"

"Family brunch," he explained, he and Bucky both reaching for their coats as they shuffled from the booth. The moment they stood and began weaving back towards the exit another group quickly seized their table. "My father wouldn't be very impressed if I showed up the worse for wear."

Bucky smiled back at him while they stepped out onto the street, ignoring the noticeably drunker crowds still heading to and fro, his gaze still fixed on Loki. "You do everything to impress your dad?"

"I try to make a point not to." He glanced back at Bucky and shrugged. "Sometimes it just makes life easier."

They stood together for a long moment, their goodbyes hanging silent in the air while Bucky fought the urge to part ways with a kiss. It wasn't like tonight had been a date or anything. He couldn't just plant one on Loki for no reason other than the fact that he wanted to.

"Well, goodnight," Bucky forced himself to say in the end.

"Goodnight."

With a departing smile Loki headed down the street and hailed a cab, and they shared a brief wave before Loki climbed inside. Once it had disappeared out of sight at the end of the block Bucky turned to make his own way home, folding up the collar of his coat to stave off the cold as he walked the few blocks back to his apartment.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, Rogers?" Bucky said as he stepped back inside to find the lights on and the soft buzz of the television filling the room. He stuck his head around the corner that separated the living area from the hall leading towards the other rooms to see Steve and Peggy curled on the couch together, takeout boxes littering the coffee table in front of them.

"We had to take Sam to the Emergency Room," Steve replied, nodding to his phone nestled between the boxes and Steve's sketchbooks that seemed to find their way just about everywhere in the apartment. "We're waiting to see how bad it is once he gets the results of his X-ray."

"Jesus, what happened to him?" He stepped forward to the table as he spoke, poking through the mostly empty cartons in case Steve had saved him his unwanted egg rolls as he usually did. Once Bucky had found them he scooped up the box and helped himself.

"He slipped while we were out running. It was one hell of a fall."

"If he hasn't broken anything I'll be amazed," Peggy said, and Steve nodded soberly.

"Shit," Bucky said before taking another bite of his lukewarm food. He stood lost in his own thoughts for a moment, until the sudden burst of sound from the TV drew his eyes to it. "The hell you watching a Red Sox game for?"

"It's just the highlights. There's nothing else on."

"Please tell me they lost."

Steve shook his head, his lip still curled in displeasure as he looked back up at Bucky. "But at least we'll get the pleasure of watching the Yankees beat them," he added brightly. It was then that his eyes flicked down to take in Bucky's outfit, and his brow furrowed. Bucky was a little more overdressed than usual, though he wouldn't have thought it would be enough to arouse suspicion. Evidently he'd been wrong. "I didn't think you were working at the bar tonight."

"I wasn't. I went out with a friend."

Steve's frown deepened at that. "What friend?"

"Thanks, ass. I do have friends other than you two, you know."

"Yeah, and Sam's in the ER," Steve shot back with a grin. Even Peggy had a knowing smile on her face.

Damn it. Bucky could usually count on her to be the voice of reason, instead of joining in with Steve's prying. "What are you guys, my parents?" he said, already feeling a warm flush creeping across his cheeks, while he tossed his empty carton onto the table with the others and turned tail before they could keep questioning him.

"If you had a date you can tell us," Peggy called after him as he headed towards his bedroom at the end of the narrow hall.

"It wasn't a date."

He collapsed onto his bed, kicking off his boots and letting them drop to the floor without paying much mind to where they fell. Usually he was a little more meticulous about keeping his things in order, but it was late, and the only person likely to go tripping over the mess in the middle of the night was himself. And any thoughts he might have had towards putting his clothes back in their rightful place tonight went to the back burner when he heard his phone chirp in his pocket. He dug it out from his jeans to find a text notification from Loki flashing up on the screen.

' _I had a great time tonight_ ,' the message read.

Bucky had barely finished reading it before he was typing his response. ' _Me too_.' After a moment he picked up the phone again and tapped out another message. ' _You feel like getting dinner sometime_?'

A large part of him regretted that message the instant he'd sent it — and probably while he was still typing it, too, though not enough to stop him — but to his relief Loki's reply came quickly. ' _I'd love to_ ,' it read. ' _There's a horribly pretentious, overpriced restaurant near my apartment where I can usually manage to wrangle a table. I could show you a terrible time._ '

' _Sounds like fun. I'm in._ ' Bucky smiled to himself as he tossed his phone onto the mattress beside him and folded his arms under his head.

Okay, so maybe it had been a date. And maybe Bucky was in more trouble than he'd let himself believe before now.


	6. Chapter 6

The rain had started not too long after Loki had reluctantly parted ways with Bucky the night before, a light shower pattering against the windows of his apartment as he'd drifted off to sleep, the skies still overcast when he'd woken this morning. Loki had never been particularly bothered by the rain, though as he drove at a crawl down his parents' street, cringing at every screech of the wiper blades dragging across the windscreen and peering through the window in search of a parking space, he certainly lamented the changing season. Getting soaked because he'd had to park at the far end of the long street wouldn't do much to brighten his mood.

It had been just over three weeks since Thor and Sif had announced their engagement over dinner, the last time they'd spent time together as a family, which apparently meant they were long overdue to get together again. Of course, Loki saw Thor and Odin almost daily at work, which was more time together than he could handle, though for once it was his mother's company Loki was dreading this morning. Now that she knew about his apparent relationship with Bucky, the barrage of questions Loki wouldn't be able to answer were inevitable. And the last thing he wanted was the others finding out about it as well.

Finally Loki found a space and pulled in, wrapping his overcoat tightly across his chest as he quickly made his way back up the block towards his parents' townhouse. Of all the days to forget he'd left the umbrella that he usually kept in his car back at the office. It was an oversight he really should be too methodical to make, though perhaps more worrying was that it wasn't the first time in recent weeks he'd noticed lapses in his usual attentiveness.

But that was a concern for a later time. Right now he just had to worry about surviving the morning. He scowled at the sight of Thor's Mercedes parked directly in front of the house before shaking his head and hurrying up the steps to let himself in.

The door to Odin's office was cracked open at the top of the stairs, just enough for his voice to carry as Loki caught a glimpse of him strolling back and forth inside the room, the phone no doubt pressed to his ear. It was by no means a rare sight. Loki didn't bother to disturb him for something so insignificant as saying good morning, instead making his way down the foyer towards the kitchen.

As expected, that was where he found Frigga, dicing fruit in the small space left on the counter island that wasn't loaded with plates of freshly cooked food. Loki's stomach gave a loud rumble as he breathed in the scent filling the room. He'd long since learnt it was best not to bother eating breakfast when his mother was going to be serving brunch.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Frigga said in greeting while she dropped the last few pineapple chunks into the bowl in front of her, before gazing up at Loki with a smile. Her eyes flitted to the door behind him and back again. "It's just you?"

"Well I was going to invite my malformed twin, but I thought you preferred it when we left him in the attic," Loki replied, and immediately Frigga shot him an exasperated look for his sarcasm.

"I'd thought you might have brought this new man of yours. He would be welcome any time, you know."

Loki had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. That had taken even less time than he'd expected. But at least the two of them were alone; he'd had visions of Frigga casually dropping Bucky into the conversation while they were all sat around the table. "You haven't been telling everybody about him, have you?"

She looked surprised by the question. "No," she said. "Would you not want me to?"

"I'd rather keep it quiet for now."

"Why? He seems lovely, Loki."

He could tell her it had been nothing but a one night stand, he supposed, that Bucky was someone he had no intention of ever seeing again. Yet that last part was far from true; what was to say Frigga would never run into Bucky at Loki's penthouse again in the future? She was too shrewd to believe there had never been anything between them if that was to happen.

"It's early days yet," he shrugged, his eyes cast to the marble countertop and praying he looked more casual than shifty. He was usually more than adept at selling whatever lies he was spinning with his body language and tone, though he still couldn't help but worry Frigga would see through it.

Yet of all the assumptions she could make if she did suspect Loki was lying, Bucky being an escort and his and Loki's relationship little more than a professional one was hardly the first she would jump to. That would give Loki the chance to come up with another explanation if she saw through this one, at least.

"This is the most exciting part of the relationship. I'm surprised you aren't singing from the rooftops about how infatuated you are."

"I just don't want to make a big deal of anything before I know it might actually go somewhere."

But it wouldn't, of course; after another few weeks Loki should easily be able to spin a story about things with Bucky not working out, which hopefully his mother would see no reason to question. It was only his and Bucky's real relationship that might complicate matters as things developed between them — if anything would, that was. They'd only spent one evening together away from the constraints of their professional arrangement; as good a time as Loki had had last night, it didn't necessarily change anything.

Frigga studied Loki's face for a moment, but regardless of whether she was going to argue the point or accept it, Loki changed the subject before she could respond.

"Is Balder coming this morning?"

"He's going to try and make it. He said something about having a paper due in, so he might have too much work to finish to spare the time," she said, Bucky apparently forgotten about for now as she crossed the room to pull yet more food out of the oven. "But he said not to wait for him, which presumably means he'll show up to raid whatever food is left once the rest of us have finished."

"As if you wouldn't force him to take it all back to campus with him anyway. Still, it would have been nice to see him."

Frigga looked back at him sternly. "You are capable of picking up a phone and calling him, Loki."

"I know. I will, when I have time," he said. And that part at least was true; he had more than once told himself he needed to get in touch with Balder now that he was back at college, but every time he seemed to end up getting distracted before he could actually find the time to call him. "I've been busy."

"Yes, I imagine you have." There was something knowing, almost mischievous, in her voice as she spoke, and when Loki glanced her way again there were the beginnings of an impish smile on her face. "So, how did you and James meet?"

"Mother," Loki warned.

The smile on her face promptly disappeared again, and Loki felt a pang of guilt at the wounded expression that had replaced it. "I can't ask you anything about him?" she said. She looked as if she wanted nothing more than to share in Loki's supposed joy at his new relationship.

He had expected nothing less, of course, but still it felt almost cruel to let her believe he'd met someone then forbid her from acknowledging it. Yet he'd have been equally cagey had his and Bucky's relationship been a real one — he'd discovered the hard way not to introduce people to his family unless he was positive they would be sticking around for some time — and if there was a better way to handle this situation, Loki had yet to discover it.

"No," he replied, before snatching up the plate Frigga had been sliding croissants onto. "Are we all ready to eat, then?"

He spun on his heel and marched into the dining room to begin loading the table before Frigga could say another word. Luckily his plan seemed to work, and by the time they were all taking their seats around the dining table the conversation was on Thor and Sif, and Frigga didn't attempt to steer it back to Loki.

"The forecast for next weekend is good," Odin said, while Loki picked at his croissant with a sudden fascination towards the delicate filigree pattern around the edge of his plate. "A little cool to host the celebrations out in the garden, sadly, but there is still plenty of room for everyone inside. And it should be dry enough that we will be able to have the pictures taken under the pergola, as we'd hoped."

"Are you sure you don't mind letting us have the run of the house?" Sif said, not for the first time since they'd begun planning her and Thor's engagement party. "We can easily rent a hall for the evening."

"Nonsense," replied Odin with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We're happy to do it."

"It will be a nice excuse to enjoy the summer home one last time this year," Frigga added.

Loki was barely listening. He'd developed quite a knack for tuning out the conversation the moment it threatened to turn towards the wedding or upcoming engagement party over the last few weeks. He kept his head down throughout the others' discussion until he could finally slip away at the earliest opportunity. The sound of Odin and Sif still comparing catering options carried out to the foyer as Loki headed upstairs and ducked into his old bedroom.

It was like stepping back in time whenever he set foot in the room; a perfectly preserved time capsule of his teenage years, old posters still clinging to the walls, the shelves loaded with schoolbooks. Thor's bedroom was the same. Frigga had been saying for years she planned to turn them into elegant guest rooms, but despite her best intentions, she was far too sentimental to ever truly go through with it.

Loki pulled his phone from his pocket to check his inbox, simultaneously relieved and disappointed to find there were no messages from the office to distract him. But before he could slide the phone away again he paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard, and with a quick glance back towards the closed door he typed in Bucky's number.

" _Hey_ ," Bucky said when he picked up, the languid smile audible in his voice. " _How's brunch_?"

"Not nearly as much fun as what you're up to, I'm sure."

" _Wow, you must really enjoy doing laundry, huh_?"

"So laundry, is it?" Loki replied, a grin stretching across his face as he leant forward to rest his elbows on the dresser. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging above it and gave his appearance a brief once-over, as if Bucky could actually see him while they spoke. "Is it too much to hope you're currently wearing nothing but an exceptionally tight pair of boxer briefs?"

" _Sorry to disappoint you. They're actually lace panties_."

"Now there's an image that will be staying with me a while," Loki said, and Bucky laughed in response. Loki couldn't help but smile wider at the sound. "I was—"

"Loki?" he heard Thor call before he could finish his sentence, the sound of the stairs creaking slightly beneath Thor's weight growing louder as he approached.

Damn it.

"I have to go," Loki said quickly. "I'll call you back in a minute."

Thor poked his head into the room just as Loki ended the call. "There you are," he said, and his gaze flicked to Loki's phone. "Who was that?"

"It was nothing," Loki replied while he straightened and slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Just work."

Thor looked like he wanted to say something at that, to bemoan the amount of time Loki spent working, as he so often did, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He was almost as bad as their mother when it came to worrying about Loki. He stepped fully into the room, pushing the door to behind him before turning back to face Loki. "Do you have a minute?"

He nodded. It wasn't as if he had much choice in the matter, of course. He was hardly about to tell Thor he'd been in the middle of something with the man he'd been paying for sex, actually, so he'd have to come back later — tempting though it was. The look on Thor's face would almost be worth it. "What can I do for you?"

"Well," Thor started, his hands sliding into his pockets and head dipping forward slightly, as if he was about to ask Loki something he wouldn't like, "hopefully you can agree to be my best man."

Loki blinked. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting Thor to say, though that certainly hadn't been it. "Me?"

"Yes, of course you," he said with a light chuckle of laughter. "Who else would I ask?"

"One of your friends?"

"I'm going to ask them to be my groomsmen, along with Balder. But there's no-one else I could ask to be my best man. Who else would be able to give such an embarrassing speech?"

Loki smiled in response to Thor's hopeful expression. "All right," he said. "I'll do it."

"Excellent," Thor replied with a wide grin. He took a step back, but before he could turn to leave a thought seemed to occur to him and he glanced back at Loki. "Of course, this does mean you'll have your share of responsibilities when it comes to the wedding."

"Ah."

That was something he hadn't considered — not the responsibility of the position; tasks like safeguarding the rings or ensuring Thor made it to the ceremony on time he could do in his sleep, and would probably still find himself involved in even if he had no part to play in the celebrations. But in agreeing to be Thor's best man, Loki was also agreeing to be a central figure in the wedding. His plan for the day, and every overblown celebration leading up to it, had been to remain as far removed from the festivities as possible, lurking against the walls and avoiding everyone he could. As best man, Odin was certain to enforce his own ideas of how Loki should behave to guarantee the celebrations unfold to perfection, and since their father was the one bankrolling everything, Loki would be powerless to disagree.

Thor's face fell at Loki's reaction. "Loki," he said, his voice serious as a frown descended across his brows, "you are happy for Sif and I, aren't you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I've long since given up trying to understand what goes on in your head, brother." There was a slight smile on Thor's face while he spoke, though his concern still lingered.

"I imagine marrying Sif will get you out of my hair," Loki said. "For that reason alone I'll be thrilled."

"Loki," Thor cut in, rolling his eyes even as his smile widened.

"It's the pomp and circumstance of it all that's so insufferable."

"Well it's important to them," Thor said with a resigned shrug. He would probably prefer to avoid the circus as well in favour of a simple ceremony, though he'd no doubt go along with everybody else's plans without objection. As long as they were happy, Thor would be happy. "And it's important to me that you're there with me. Just do what Father says for one day, without sulking about it; consider it your wedding gift to us."

Loki met Thor's gaze for a moment, and eventually he sighed. "Very well."

Thor beamed and clapped him hard on the shoulder.

"You realise I won't be getting you any other gifts," Loki added as Thor turned to leave the room.

He looked back over his shoulder with a smile. "Of course," he replied, before disappearing through the doorway.

Loki retrieved his phone again and dialled Bucky's number as he listened to Thor's footsteps disappearing. Bucky answered after the first ring.

" _That was fast_."

"I'm a bastion of ruthless efficiency."

" _Yeah, I bet_ ," he said warmly. " _When can I see you again_?"

"I'll likely be busy with work for a day or two after the weekend," Loki replied, and paused for a moment to consider how late he could expect to leave the office over the next week. It was some surprise he had been able to take the afternoon off on Thursday to move back in to his apartment, though given the amount of work he had left to catch up on because of it, he wasn't sure it actually counted as time off. "I should be free by Wednesday."

" _Well aren't you lucky? I'll be free, too_."

"Great," Loki said, before he heard his mother calling and rolled his eyes again. He shouldn't have been surprised, really; it had always been next to impossible to have five minutes to himself in this house. "All right, now I really have to go. I'll speak to you soon."

" _Yeah. See ya, Loki_."

Loki slid his phone away and headed back downstairs with a smile. Wednesday evening couldn't come fast enough.


	7. Chapter 7

The next few days passed in a blur of early mornings and even later nights as Loki scrambled to catch up on the avalanche of work waiting for him. He wouldn't have thought taking one afternoon off would set him back quite so much, but then it had been so long since he'd taken any time off it probably stood to reason that his judgement wouldn't be too accurate. But he'd managed to get on top of things enough that he could slip out of the office on time on Wednesday — of course, he had done so by simply ignoring every task he could put off for another day or two, though it was hard to feel particularly guilty about that — and he eyed the blanket of pale grey clouds overhead warily as he walked the few blocks from his apartment building to the restaurant.

Luckily they heeded his silent warning not to rain long enough for him to duck under the awning outside the restaurant's grand double doors, the first few drops hitting the concrete as Loki stepped into the foyer.

"Mr Odinson," the maître d' said with a cordial smile upon looking up at him. He'd worked there as long as Loki had lived in New York; stood at the front desk, unchanged but for the ever-increasing amount of grey in his neatly parted hair, every time Loki had set foot inside the restaurant. Loki should really learn his name at some point. "It's good to see you again."

He stepped forward to shake Loki's hand before leading him through the archway into the grand dining area. The place was packed as usual, so much old money in the room you could practically smell it; heirloom jewellery glinting under the warm light of the chandeliers and ten-thousand dollar suits everywhere you looked. Loki had never felt fully at home in places like this, but he'd be damned if he was going to let that keep him from enjoying himself tonight. Besides, observing the city's blue-blooded upper class from an outsider's perspective was rather more amusing than being one of them.

"Thank you," Loki said when the maître d' led him to a small table towards the side of the room and pulled back a chair for Loki to take a seat. He handed Loki one of the leather-bound menus tucked under his arm and set the other in the empty seat opposite.

"Enjoy your evening," he said, folding his arms behind his back and bowing his head slightly in a way reminiscent of every butler Loki had ever encountered, before making his way back into the foyer to greet the ancient-looking couple stood waiting at the desk.

He gazed down at his menu without paying any real attention to it, his eyes flicking towards the entrance every few seconds until Bucky stepped into the foyer. He stood with his shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, looking around like he expected to be asked to leave again the moment somebody spotted him. Loki couldn't help but smile at that. He got to his feet, and the moment Bucky caught sight of him he seemed to relax a little. The tension dropped out of his stance and he shot Loki a small smile as he approached.

"It's good to see you," Loki said once Bucky had reached him. He sounded too relieved to his own ears.

"What, were you worried you were gonna get stood up?"

He was joking, but still Loki didn't answer. Part of him had been, actually, a part that had been growing larger with each passing minute as his cynicism got the better of him. He cleared his throat and sat down again, watching Bucky do the same and look around the dining room curiously, his shoulders drawing in again while he took in the opulence of the room. "How are you?"

"Sticking out like a sore thumb," he replied, with another easy smile that didn't hide his discomfort as much as he was clearly trying to. He fiddled with the knot of his tie as he spoke and shifted in his seat.

"You look fine."

He might have been the only one in the room without a trust fund and a Savile Row suit, but still Bucky was well-groomed enough, and his classically handsome features certainly helped make it look like he was a man who belonged here. Loki doubted anybody who did give him a second look would bother to drag their gaze anywhere else. God knows he himself had trouble with it all too often.

"This just isn't the kind of crowd I usually find myself in," Bucky said. He was still curled in on himself a little as he looked up and across the room again, and when he gazed back at Loki there was an air of self-deprecating charm to him. "I kinda feel like I ought to be stealing something."

"Well it is remarkably easy."

With a mischievous twitch of his lips and a mild thrill of glee Loki casually folded his silverware into the soft Egyptian cotton of his napkin. He looked up at the people around them briefly enough to keep from rousing suspicion, and slipped the napkin into the inner pocket of his jacket like he was doing nothing more than sliding a phone away. Bucky studied him for a moment with a grin of his own and did the same, and barely a minute or two after he'd stashed his own spoils out of sight a waiter approached their table.

"Oh," Loki said once the man had taken their drinks order, putting on his most charming smile, his eyes darting to Bucky watching him with interest and back to the waiter, "and could we have some cutlery? We appear to be without any."

The waiter peered down at their table. "Oh, of course," he said, a hint of embarrassment in his tone at the apparent oversight. "I'll fetch some right away for you."

He hurried off towards the kitchens and Loki glanced back to Bucky still staring after the waiter in astonishment. When his gaze finally returned to Loki, Loki shot him a triumphant smile. "I discovered that trick when I was seventeen," he said. "If you're in need of bathroom supplies I'll show you how you can stock up in the men's room later."

Bucky grinned again. "And no-one's ever caught on?"

"My father did, once he'd discovered the collection of pilfered silverware hidden under my bed. That was the last time he ever allowed me to come here with the family."

"Bet you had hell to pay for that one."

"Oh, yes," Loki said emphatically.

Bucky chuckled in response, and once the waiter had returned with their drinks and a new set of silverware for them each he peered down at his menu. After a moment he frowned. "Why doesn't anything have a price?" he said while he flicked back and forth through the menu, as if the numbers might magically appear if he caught the pages unawares.

"Because if you're concerned about how much it costs, you can't afford it," Loki replied. He peered up from his own menu to see Bucky gaping at him in horror and grinned.

The waiter came to take their orders after another few minutes, and Bucky sat back in his seat and gazed around the room again. He looked like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. "You know," he said, "I always used to imagine what these kinds of places looked like on the inside."

Loki nodded as he took a sip of his wine and set the glass down again. "How does the reality compare?"

"It's not all that different. Less people wearing monocles and giant fur coats, I guess."

"Give it another few months; the fur coats will make an appearance again," he replied, and Bucky laughed. Loki watched him until the smile faded from his eyes, before tearing his gaze away to look out at the people surrounding them. "Well, hello," he said, sitting up straight, a grin creeping across his lips, when he caught sight of a couple in a corner of the room that evidently wasn't as secluded as they'd hoped.

"What?" Bucky said.

"You see the portly gentleman by the piano with the young woman's foot sliding up his leg?"

Bucky followed Loki's gaze. "Yeah," he said. He was raising his eyebrows when Loki's eyes flicked to him. "Wow, they're not subtle."

"He's a member of the company's board of directors. And that's decidedly not his wife."

Bucky whistled. He looked almost impressed. "The sly old dog."

The man took a long gulp of his drink and fiddled with his tie as Loki and Bucky watched him, his face growing steadily more flushed while his date threatened to give him either a premature orgasm or a heart attack. Loki wasn't quite sure which was more likely. He shot a furtive glance about the room while he squirmed in his seat, until finally he caught sight of Loki.

Loki smiled sweetly and raised his glass in greeting. He had to fight the urge to laugh as the man's face fell and he turned a dark enough shade of red to spot it from across the room.

The sound of Bucky's laugh over the hum of conversation around them drew Loki's attention back his way. "I never knew you could have so much fun at a place like this," Bucky said.

"You do have to make your own sometimes."

Bucky glanced back towards the couple, suddenly far less amorous than they'd been only moments before. "Now how does a guy like that land a woman forty years younger?" he pondered aloud, and his eyes flicked back to Loki, glittering with humour. "Winning personality?"

"I've spent enough time in the man's company to say with some confidence that's a no," Loki replied, and they shared another grin before Loki gazed across the room again as a worrying thought occurred to him. "I sincerely hope that's not me one day."

"What, being someone's sugar daddy, or still working at your father's company?"

Loki smiled back at Bucky. "Both," he said, though he knew already he'd be doing at least one of those things. Tempting as it would be to hand in his resignation just to see his father's reaction, the fallout wouldn't be worth that fleeting satisfaction. Odin had said time and again that the company was his way of securing Loki's and his brothers' futures, and regardless of whether or not Loki actually believed that, Odin did. He'd not take kindly to Loki throwing it all away out of spite.

"What about you?" Loki said, dismissing that thought by reaching for the wine bottle at the side of their table and topping up his and Bucky's glasses. "You plan to keep on working for your uncle?"

"Yeah, I guess so," replied Bucky. He sat gazing off at nothing as he considered, his brows furrowing slightly in thought until he met Loki's eyes again. "I always thought I'd give it a few years and see how I felt then. I'd hate to realise I'm on the wrong path when I'm too old to do a damn thing about it."

Loki nodded. "How old are you, out of curiosity?" He wasn't sure the subject had ever come up before. It was difficult to pin an age on Bucky, now that Loki thought about it; he seemed to flit between youthful, boyish charm and the world-weariness of one who had experienced perhaps too much with a strange ease. He looked like he couldn't be a day older than thirty at most — and even that was a stretch — yet part of Loki wouldn't be surprised to find out that he was.

"Twenty six," Bucky said. He frowned and corrected himself. "Twenty seven."

"You have trouble keeping up?" Loki replied with an arch of his eyebrow, and Bucky smiled back at him warmly, unfazed by Loki's teasing.

"It's been like two weeks; give me a break. There's an adjustment period."

Loki paused, his glass hovering at his lips. The amount of time he and Bucky had spent together in the last month or so, he would have thought he'd know if Bucky had had a birthday in that time. "You never mentioned it."

"Well there's not really an organic way to work it into the conversation when you're balls deep in a guy."

An older woman who looked somehow more well-heeled than the restaurant's usual clientele was moving between the nearby tables while Bucky spoke, looking over everything dismissively as if even this level of grandeur failed to meet her standards, and upon overhearing his words she stared down at Bucky with an affronted expression. She gave an audible harrumph as she passed them.

Bucky's eyes immediately widened in response and he looked at Loki with some mix of horror and amusement battling it out on his features. Amusement won out in the end when Loki could no longer keep his own grin from his face, and the two of them descended into a fit of laughter. "Oops," Bucky said, fighting to school his features into an appropriate display of shame. He didn't quite manage, but then Loki was having a hard time composing himself as well.

This was without doubt the best time he had ever had here.

The waiter arrived with their meals a moment later, which finally forced them to sit up straight and behave themselves. They spent more time talking than eating, Loki hanging on Bucky's every word as he told Loki about his friends, his childhood, the parts of his life Loki had never got a glimpse at before. It wasn't nearly as boring as Loki would have thought. Whenever Loki had bothered to date in the past he'd always stumbled at this hurdle, finding any interest in people outside of the bedroom, but he actually wanted to hear what Bucky had to say, wanted to learn more about him, his eyes on Bucky so intently as he spoke that Loki barely paid attention to his meal.

Bucky was the opposite, carefully picking at his steak and chewing slowly, and once Loki had noticed that he frowned. "You don't like it?" he said.

"No, it's great," Bucky replied quickly, an apologetic smile on his face like he was worried he'd caused offence. "I just figured I should try and savour it. When else am I gonna eat a meal that's apparently worth more than I pay in rent?"

Loki smiled. He'd be only too happy to do this again if Bucky wanted, though he didn't put voice to those words.

They talked and laughed, little care to whether they were disturbing the tables around them or behaving in a way not in keeping with the tone of the place, as dinner turned into dessert and dessert turned into coffee, and Loki felt a slight disappointment settle in his stomach as the evening drew to a close. He was having a good time; he wasn't ready for it to be over. But hopefully it wouldn't be just yet.

He paid their bill and they made their way through the tables, the room far quieter now in the late hour, towards the exit, and Loki turned to gaze back at Bucky when they stepped out onto the street. The sound of soft music over the buzz of conversation had been replaced by the ugly noise of the city at night: the constant _swoosh_ of tyres on the wet road and fat drops of rain drumming heavily against the awning and the street. Loki paid it no mind.

"Well, thank you for making that place more fun than it has any right to be," he said.

Bucky shot him a fond smile, and Loki felt the corners of his own lips curve in turn. "And thank you for spending the GDP of a small country on dinner."

Loki laughed. "Maybe you'll have to choose the restaurant next time." If there would be a next time. It was perhaps presumptuous to even mention it, but Bucky was still smiling when Loki looked his way again.

"Deal," he said. "How d'you like hamburgers?"

"Oh, hate them." He grinned back at Bucky. "You'll have to do better than that."

Bucky looked like he was quite looking forward to the challenge. "I'm sure I'll think of something," he replied, taking a step closer until he and Loki were mere inches apart.

Loki eyed Bucky's lips as he bit his own. All he would have to do to taste them was breach that tiny distance between their bodies. He let himself. It started out as a chaste peck, appropriate enough for a first date — even if they had already done so much more — though when Loki moved to pull away Bucky leant in after him, deepening the kiss while Loki curled an arm around Bucky's back to hold him close. And maybe it was just the pleasant haze from one too many glasses of wine talking, but there was something different about this kiss from all the others they'd shared. Something electric.

Bucky's eyes remained closed for a moment once their lips had parted, as if he'd felt the difference too, and lazily he shot Loki a crooked smile that sent a fresh wave of warmth coursing through him. His gaze flicked back to Loki's mouth like he wanted more.

He wasn't the only one.

"Come home with me," Loki said. He wasn't sure if he was commanding or begging. Bucky nodded either way, and Loki closed the few inches between them again to steal another deep kiss.

He would have been quite happy to stay there like that a while longer, but there'd be plenty of time for it when they were back at his apartment. He pulled back once more, with some effort, and as his heart rate slowed to normal he looked up in the direction of his building, watching the falling rain with a sigh. "Serves me right for forgetting to bring an umbrella," he said.

Bucky was staring out at the rain as well when Loki eyed him, though he didn't look concerned by it. "Guess we'll just have to get wet."

They headed back to Loki's apartment as quickly as they could, heads bowed and shoulders hunched, keeping as close to the buildings as possible to avoid any errant sprays from the passing traffic. Neither particularly helped them fend off the rain. Loki was drenched through by the time they had ducked mercifully into the quiet foyer of his building, and as the lift sped them up to the top floor he looked over at Bucky stood beside him to find him similarly sodden. They took in the sight of one another and laughed.

But they were alone, and without the driving wind and rain to occupy their attention there was nothing keeping them from curling in close to one another again and continuing to taste each other's lips. They only parted when the lift slowed to a stop — too soon for Loki's liking, though the thought of his bed being so close put an end to that momentary annoyance — and the second they were inside Loki's penthouse Bucky's mouth was on him again.

He clutched fistfuls of Loki's lapels and pulled him in, rolling his hips against Loki's as Loki's hands moved to the small of Bucky's back to keep their bodies pressed together — though Bucky seemed no more keen to move away than Loki would be to let him go. He didn't care that the rain had soaked into him so deeply he was chilled to the bone, didn't care that icy cold water was still trickling from his hair down the back of his neck. Just the thought of having Bucky there with him was enough to heat his blood.

"Upstairs?" Bucky said against Loki's lips.

Loki nodded. They pulled apart and Loki led the way to his bedroom with hurried steps, Bucky just as eager at his heels.

He'd already loosened his tie and begun work on the top few buttons of his shirt when Loki looked back at him, and they shared a grin before quickly undressing themselves, perhaps just as grateful for the opportunity to rid themselves of their wet clothes as they were excited for what was to come next. Bucky stepped close again the moment he'd tossed his trousers aside and kissed Loki hungrily. His skin was like a furnace against Loki's.

Loki thrilled at the press of Bucky's body against him. He'd never had the feeling that Bucky didn't particularly want to be there whenever they'd spent the night together before, though the thought that Bucky was truly only here now because he wanted to be... it was an excitement Loki had never stopped to appreciate before.

"So," he said, breathless already and quickly growing hard against Bucky's pelvis, "I imagine it's your turn to call the shots tonight?"

Bucky smiled back at him, and Loki's stomach fluttered in anticipation. He hadn't expected to delight at that thought quite as much as he did now.

"I've got a few ideas," replied Bucky with a shrug of his shoulder. The erection pressing firmly against Loki's own betrayed his attempt at nonchalance. They kissed again, their lips brushing each other's cheeks and jaws and necks while Loki steered them back towards the bed, and Bucky's teeth grazed Loki's earlobe before he spoke again. "I want you to fuck me," he said.

"God, yes," Loki breathed in response.

Bucky grinned and settled back on the mattress, making himself comfortable as Loki crawled onto the bed after him. But as much as Loki ached to taste every inch of him that he hadn't already, he carried on past Bucky's waiting body to reach over the side of the mattress for the shoebox he'd taken to keeping stashed under the bed, filled with condoms and lube and toys — all things he'd found quite the need for since Bucky had come into his life.

He straightened and returned to Bucky to claim his mouth again, breathing in the spiced, citrusy scent of aftershave faint on his skin, before slithering lower. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the underside of Bucky's jaw, another to his Adam's apple, his tongue flicking out to catch the occasional droplet of water he found still clinging to Bucky's chest. Bucky's heart was beating fast beneath his skin when Loki moved to tease a nipple with his tongue, grazing his teeth over it and relishing the sharp gasp that escaped Bucky in response. The sound turned into a warm tinkle of laughter, and Loki pulled back with a smirk at the sound.

"I should have known you'd bite," Bucky said.

"Don't pretend you don't enjoy it." Loki's hand slid the rest of the way down Bucky's torso towards his erection, and Bucky laughed again, the smile still glittering in his eyes when Loki looked back at him.

"Maybe a little."

Loki trailed his fingers up Bucky's shaft, too lightly to offer any relief, judging by the noise Bucky gave in response, while he returned his lips to Bucky's skin. His stomach clenched and quivered beneath Loki's mouth as he moved towards the sharp V of his hips, slipping his tongue along it and letting it guide him to Bucky's cock. He showered it with licks and kisses, rubbing his thumb along the underside as he sucked the head into his mouth.

Bucky let out another soft noise above him, barely louder than the rain pelting the bedroom windows, and again Loki cursed the rotten weather. He knew which sounds he'd prefer to hear. But rather than linger to pull more from Bucky, Loki released his cock and slid down again, his own breath catching as his erection dragged against the mattress. He positioned himself between Bucky's spread thighs and ran his hands along them, pushing them up out of his way to drag his tongue over Bucky's entrance.

He grinned at the breathless laugh it earned him and peered up the plane of Bucky's torso to see him folding an arm under his head with a smile of his own, ready to savour Loki's attentions. And Loki was nothing if not eager to please.

Bucky opened easily for him when Loki ducked his head again — easily enough that Loki could perhaps forgo preparation entirely, but he remained in place, teasing Bucky with his tongue and fingers, pushing his hips down against the bed to bring some measure of relief to his own swollen cock. The sound of Bucky's heavy breathing pierced the air, the head of his dick flushed already as Bucky dragged his fingers up and down his shaft.

Loki longed to close his lips around it and feel Bucky spill down his throat, almost as much as he longed to remain buried between Bucky's thighs to see if he could make Bucky come with just his tongue. He did neither. Instead he pulled back to rest on his knees and rooted in the shoebox beside them for a condom. With hands trembling a little in his anticipation he fumbled to roll it on while Bucky pulled a bottle of lube from the box and sat up to press his lips against the side of Loki's neck, dragging his teeth playfully along Loki's jawbone as Loki sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes falling closed, nerves sparking with sensitivity at the feel of it.

And Bucky didn't stop even as he wrapped his hand around Loki's cock to slick him up. Loki threaded his fingers into Bucky's hair while he rocked his hips into the touch, but before he could lose himself in it too much Bucky's hand dropped away and he settled back on the mattress again, legs open in a silent invitation.

Well, it would be rude to refuse.

He positioned himself and slid inside Bucky with more care than was probably necessary, but still Loki gasped at the sensation as if he wasn't prepared for it. It had been too long since he'd had sex with anyone before Bucky; longer still since he'd been the one to fuck someone. It took a moment to adjust. He clenched his hands in the sheets, closing his eyes as Bucky's lips slid to a sensitive spot beneath his ear that he'd found before Loki had ever even realised it existed. It had become a go-to spot of his since — and far be it from Loki to stop him. A soft moan expelled itself from Loki's lungs and his hips twitched forward, pushing himself deeper into Bucky without warning.

Bucky didn't seem to care. He was probably used to it, after all.

Loki forced that thought from his mind.

He straightened to peer down at Bucky for a moment as Bucky watched him, and began to thrust, slowly at first, more for his own benefit than Bucky's. The number of times he'd thought about this, curled his hand tight around his cock on his nights alone and pretended it was Bucky he was fucking into, it was only now he was here that it truly hit him how long it had been since he'd last done this. He just prayed he wasn't too rusty. Bucky had said before he didn't date much either; if this was the first night in some time he was really sleeping with someone of his own choosing, it had better be worth his while.

From the smile on his face as he gazed back up at Loki, though, he had no regrets so far. And regret was the farthest thing from Loki's mind as well. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the heat of Bucky enveloping him, the drag of his muscles tightening around Loki every time he drew back, like Bucky was trying to keep Loki buried inside him as long as he could, and when he opened his eyes Bucky's own were squeezed shut, his lips parted in apparent pleasure.

"You feel so good," Bucky said, his voice a little rough already. He looked up to meet Loki's gaze again as he rolled his hips in time with Loki's thrusts. "I thought you would."

"You've thought about this before?" He felt a brief surge of pride at that thought, that Bucky had perhaps been thinking of Loki outside of their arrangement as much as Loki had found himself thinking of him.

"More than I should have."

Loki grinned. "Have you been having inappropriate thoughts about your clients, Bucky?"

"Yes," Bucky said with a huff of laughter, and he leant forward to catch Loki's lips while he wrapped his legs around Loki's waist. The slight change in angle pushed Loki's cock even deeper into him, and when Bucky next clenched tight around him Loki let out a choked groan that sounded far more wrecked with desperate arousal than he'd intended it to. He would have been embarrassed to so obviously slip from control had Bucky not drawn more incriminating sounds from him on plenty of other occasions before now. And besides, it was entirely worth it.

It was some struggle to hang on to any form of higher brainpower at that point, but Loki forced through the burning lust overpowering his senses to remember Bucky's words. "Does that happen often?"

Bucky scoffed. "Yeah, I wish."

Loki smiled and dropped his head, felt Bucky's lips graze softly against his forehead, and Bucky's hands slid from Loki's hair to his back to gently guide his movements. They stayed like that for a while, rocking against each other and kissing every sliver of skin their mouths could reach, until Bucky's hold on Loki tightened and he rolled them over to straddle Loki's lap. He threaded his fingers with Loki's and pinned his hands above his head with a firmness that brought a grin to Loki's face, his breath hitching as Bucky squeezed just a little more.

"You like that, huh?" Bucky said. He was wearing a grin of his own.

"Oh, yes," Loki replied as he closed his eyes. He liked it even more when Bucky began to move again, circling his hips with growing intensity. He tensed beneath Bucky's hands, half-hoping to slip his arms free and clutch at Bucky's hips, half-hoping to remain powerless beneath him. Bucky's grasp held firm.

He leant down to press a wet kiss beside Loki's Adam's apple, and when Loki opened his eyes again Bucky was still watching him. "Anything else you want me to do to you?" he said, generous as ever.

Old habits, Loki supposed.

"I'd let you do anything to me," Loki said. It was a statement perhaps a little too candid, the part of Loki's brain that might have filtered his words preoccupied while his body seemed open to entirely too much sensation, but whether it was simply the result of his arousal or Bucky's effect on him in general, the words were true all the same.

Bucky smiled again. "Maybe I'll have to test that one day."

"Yes," Loki breathed, arching beneath Bucky at the thought, his toes curling, blood racing, and once Bucky had released his grip on Loki's wrists and straightened Loki gazed up at him almost in wonder. God, the way Bucky moved... It was mesmerising just to watch, Bucky's hips circling and grinding in one fluid movement, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he writhed above Loki.

Bucky rode him with expert precision, clenching around his cock just tight enough for him to feel the drag of it every time Bucky pulled off him before slamming down again in a driving rhythm, until Loki could have screamed from the pressure building inside him. Perhaps he did. He wasn't entirely aware of the noises spilling from him anymore.

"You still with me?" Bucky said. There was a ragged edge to his breathing, the first sign that he wasn't quite as in control as he seemed.

Loki couldn't wait to watch him come undone completely.

He made a noise in response that sounded more like a growl than anything close to the English language, and Bucky laughed as he leant in for another kiss. He draped himself over Loki, his skin hot and slick with sweat against Loki's own, and Loki seized the opportunity to plant his feet on the mattress and start fucking up into Bucky, his hands sliding up Bucky's strong thighs towards his cheeks to spread him open as if he could bury himself even farther inside that way.

Bucky pushed back into Loki's every thrust, his temple pressed against Loki's cheek, warm breath ghosting over the side of his neck. Soft groans and whispered curses slipped from his lips as their movements grew faster. Neither of them were anywhere near in control of themselves now, lost to the pleasure. Loki was so close — so fucking close — his body coiling with the mounting tension like the next move Bucky made could be the one to make him snap. Whether Bucky could sense that or he just possessed spectacular timing, he clenched tight around Loki once more, and that was it.

He arched his back off of the mattress, his every muscle convulsing as he gasped with his orgasm, and he reached between them to rub his thumb over the wet head of Bucky's dick in some desperate urge to give him as much pleasure as he'd given Loki. Bucky continued to push back against him, riding him until the aftershocks eased and Loki's body began to relax. He had his eyes closed tight when Loki gazed back up at him, lips parted and cheeks flushed with colour, and after a moment Bucky let out a moan so quiet Loki wouldn't have suspected it was the sound of him reaching his own climax if not for the feel of his release coating Loki's hand and stomach. His laboured breaths mingled with the sound of Loki's, and he pressed one final rough kiss to Loki's jaw before dropping like a stone onto the mattress beside him.

"I would suggest taking a shower," Loki said, the words coming out treacle slow as he struggled to fight the fatigue seeping into his oversensitive body, barely enough strength to reach down and peel off his condom, and a laugh bubbled up from deep within his chest. "But I don't think I can move just yet."

Bucky smiled back at him lazily in response, and after a moment he forced himself up, patting Loki's thigh as he turned to lean over the edge of the bed. He emerged again holding the towel stored under there for moments like this. They were fairly common these days.

Once they'd both wiped themselves down as much as they had the energy to Loki tossed the towel feebly in the general direction of his laundry basket. He was only vaguely aware of the pathetic _thwump_ of it dropping to the floor while he preoccupied himself with curling against Bucky again. They shared a languid kiss before Loki closed his eyes, and the sound of Bucky's slow breaths from beside him was the last thing he could remember hearing as he drifted into unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

Loki woke not, as he usually did, to the frantic beeping of his alarm jerking him into sudden consciousness, but to blissful quiet. It was an odd sensation. He lay with his eyes closed, making no attempt to move as he gradually became more aware of his surroundings. There was something hot and firm pressing against his stomach, contrasting keenly with the chill at his back from the AC unit blasting cool air into the room. He made a mental note to change its settings before the weather grew any worse — which would probably be forgotten by the time he rolled out of bed — and finally Loki opened his eyes.

The room was bright, the kind of cloudless pale sky outside the windows that hinted at a bitterly cold morning, but Loki didn't give it a second glance. His eyes had fallen to Bucky still lying beside him, their limbs tangled together — and he realised now the uncomfortable lump against his stomach was Bucky's forearm pinned beneath him — a rare burst of warmth in Loki's sterile white bedroom. But before he really had time to enjoy the sight his alarm caught up with him, and Bucky's eyes snapped open at the noise. He frowned, blearily trying to gain his bearings, and when he looked over at Loki a sleepy smile spread across his face.

"Good morning," Loki said.

Bucky gave a vague noise in response that was perhaps the closest thing to a word he could manage yet, while Loki pulled back to untangle himself. He'd be quite happy to roll back over and sleep again for a while, or even just lay in bed together, his every impulse rebelling at the thought of sitting up and forcing himself out of bed. So he closed his eyes again, made himself comfortable against his pillow and did his best to pretend he didn't need to start getting ready for work.

But sadly it seemed Bucky wasn't going to enable Loki's denial this morning. He sat up beside Loki, the mattress shifting with his movement, and Loki cracked his eyes open again to watch Bucky glance over at the glowing display of the alarm clock. His lips pursed into an unhappy pout and he sighed as his eyes drifted down to meet Loki's.

"I should get out of here."

Loki grumbled. The prospect of staying curled in bed wouldn't be quite so appealing if Bucky was going to abandon it already. Reluctantly Loki sat up, and he leaned in close to Bucky, breathing in the same familiar scent that was clinging to the bed linens while he trailed his lips down Bucky's neck. "Stay for breakfast."

"Can't," replied Bucky. There was a smile in his voice. "I'm working on the Upper West Side today; if I don't want to stink like sex all day I'll need to leave now to get home and back in time."

"Then why go all the way back to Brooklyn?" Loki said. "You can shower here. I'm sure I'll have a change of clothes that will fit you." He pressed another kiss to the underside of Bucky's jaw while Bucky considered, and when Loki looked up at him again he was smiling.

"All right," he said.

Loki dropped back onto the mattress triumphantly. It wasn't nearly as desirable as curling up together again, but at least he'd get to enjoy Bucky's company a little while longer. "There's a spare toothbrush under the sink," he said when Bucky climbed out of bed, gazing back towards it like he quite wanted to curl up again himself, and Loki folded his arms under his head, his eyes drifting downwards to watch with a satisfied smirk as Bucky padded naked out of the room.

By the time Bucky had made his way downstairs Loki had quickly showered and dressed as well and was stood at the stove, cracking eggs into a skillet while the smell of brewing coffee seeped through the air. "You cook?" Bucky said as he came to join Loki in the kitchen area.

He was wearing nothing but an old pair of jeans Loki had set out for him, and as Loki watched Bucky pulled on the hoodie in his hands. It was too big for Loki, which was partly why he only ever dug it out of his drawers when he was ill and felt like bundling himself up for comfort, but it hung nicely off of Bucky's broad shoulders, and Loki eyed him until he'd pulled it down past his hips.

"A little," he replied, turning back to his browning omelettes, while from the corner of his eye he watched Bucky pour them each a mug of coffee. "My mother used to be a gourmet chef; I managed to pick up a few things." Not that he ever had time to practise. But hopefully he was still competent enough to cook eggs without encountering disaster. He shouldn't have really cared about trying to impress Bucky — God knows he'd never held much stock in what anybody thought of him before — yet he'd long since realised he was hopeless in that regard. He'd been desperate to make a good impression even when he'd been paying for Bucky's company; he wasn't about to slack off now Bucky was here of his own volition.

"Smells good."

"That hardly speaks wonders for your own cooking skills," Loki said with a smile as he slid the omelettes onto a plate each and turned to offer one to Bucky, "that you'd be impressed by some eggs."

Bucky pursed his lips while he took the plate from Loki's hand, but there was good humour still glinting in his eyes. Interestingly, he didn't object to the slight against his cooking. "You know what, I take it back," he replied instead, and they shared a grin before Bucky scooped up his coffee mug with his free hand and rounded the island to take a seat at the long, glass-topped dining table that looked out on Loki's rather sad-looking terrace.

When Loki had first moved in he had filled it with plants and inviting seating; a perfect place to spend the summer evenings gazing out over the city. Of course, plants needed maintenance that Loki never could find the time for, and before long his summer entertaining spot was left pathetic and neglected, much like Loki's social life. He'd done away with the dead shrubs, their empty planters still sat waiting to be filled again next to the covered sofas waiting to be used. There was little point in maintaining the space these days. Still, it was hard not to look out at the terrace and find it some damning reflection of the rest of his life.

Bucky didn't seem to pay it any mind, though, more consumed by wolfing down his omelette as if he'd never eaten a real breakfast before. For his own part, Loki picked at his plate, no particular appetite for solid food. His breakfasts typically came from the vending machines at the office, and served double duty as his lunch as well.

They finished eating and reluctantly Loki saw Bucky off. He leant in for a deep kiss — perhaps too deep, the feel of Bucky's tongue on Loki's sparking the kinds of thoughts that wouldn't be particularly conducive to focusing on anything else at work all day — before stepping through the door and down the corridor towards the lift. Loki didn't close the door until Bucky was out of sight, and with a smile still on his face he cleared up and prepared to head for the office.

Any lightness in his mood was quickly weighed down again when he arrived.

Loki stepped out of the lifts onto the floor of his office, the long room decorated elegantly in the same polished, stone-coloured marble and warm maple panelling as the rest of the building. He didn't find it nearly as welcoming as it was intended to be. His cheeks still stinging slightly from the cold morning air outside, Loki made his way past empty desks towards the offices at the far end of the room. His own was the only one with its blinds opened already, and as Loki approached he spotted a figure inside the room, sat patiently in the chair by Loki's desk.

His stomach dropped. He already knew who it was.

"You're late," Odin said, looking from the tablet in his hand to his watch with a frown, when Loki stepped into his office.

"It's ten to nine," Loki replied. Admittedly, he did usually arrive far earlier, though that was by his own choosing, not a company mandate, and not something he was beholden to each day.

Odin said nothing in response, and Loki set his briefcase down on the sofa beside the door and shrugged off his overcoat. It was a tense silence, his father clearly impatient to get to the matter he'd been waiting there to discuss, though Loki didn't prompt him to speak. Even if he would rather get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Have you been coordinating with R&D?" Odin said finally, once Loki had taken a seat at his desk and switched on his computer.

"Yes."

"How are the designs for the flight suit coming along?"

He'd known that would be Odin's question, but still Loki wasn't fully prepared with an answer, quickly rooting through the growing stack of paperwork on his desk for his notes. No doubt his email inbox was in even greater disarray, but he could worry about that once Odin was out of his office.

Odin was frowning again when Loki glanced back up at him. He never had liked to be kept waiting.

"There are still some kinks to work out," Loki said, scanning his scrawled list of problems the head technician had reeled off in frustration days earlier when he'd braved stepping into her workshop to check up on their progress. "Devising an operating system for the suits; losing as much weight as possible to increase fuel efficiency without sacrificing safety; manual fail-safes should the suit encounter problems in-flight — and that's before we can even think about beginning manned trials. With any luck the first prototype will be up and running within the next month. That should allow us to progress a little faster."

"But it won't be ready in time for our presentation."

"No."

From the thunderous expression on his face, that wasn't the news Odin had wanted to hear. He seemed to approach business not unlike a spoilt child might: demanding results and expecting them immediately for the simple reason that that was when he wanted them. But it had worked well enough for him thus far, largely because most of his employees were too intimidated by the man to do anything but scramble to please him.

But Loki had never been afraid of his father, and he had no interest in placating Odin with false promises only to disappoint him later. He'd much rather get it out of the way now. "A working flight suit could take years to develop," he said. "Do you think we can rush one into production in three months?"

Odin wasn't about to back down, though. He'd grown too used to things like plausible time frames bending to his whims to easily accept that there was nothing to be done to speed this process so far along.

"If Stark delivers a completed flight suit we can kiss this contract goodbye."

It was some struggle for Loki to care about that. It was a fantastic opportunity, certainly, and could easily open up doors to exclusive military contracts going forward, though losing the contract would by no means doom the company. They would still be a major player in the business without it. And besides, Loki would quite like to leave the office on time once in a while, now that he actually had something other than work to hold his interest.

His apathy must have shown on his face, judging by Odin's darkening look, so Loki plastered on a smile.

It didn't help.

"I thought the general was a friend," Loki said.

"He was also a good friend of Howard Stark's," Odin replied, as if that was hardly a statement worth making. "And as I'm sure the news will come as a disappointment to you, personal connections are not everything in this business. We are, on occasion, required to earn contracts by merit."

Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes. Odin looked like he was expecting Loki to, a hint of threat in his stare that if Loki did he could come to regret it. Loki was almost sure it would be worth it, but he decided against it regardless.

"Well perhaps you could present it as an investment opportunity: if we were awarded the contract, we could finish the designs to the government's exact specifications." It would still look pitiful in comparison if Stark showed up with a completed suit by then, but what was to say he was much further along than they were? Loki had only seen the initial plans in Stark's office; it could be he had only been pondering the idea, or was having trouble making the suits a reality. Why, as far as Loki knew it may not have even been a flight suit. He had only caught the briefest glimpse at Stark's plans, after all.

Odin hardly looked soothed by that idea, but before he could voice his objections the phone on Loki's desk rang. "Hello?" Loki said, listening for a moment before offering the phone out to Odin. "It's your office."

Odin took the phone and Loki let out a long yawn that had been fighting to burst free for some time, covering it with his hand yet it didn't escape Odin's notice. He shook his head while he listened to what his secretary had to say, said, "Yes, I'll be up in a moment. Send them in," and handed the phone back to Loki. "Get on to R&D," he said to Loki as he stood. "I want them working on this suit around the clock. All other projects are a lower priority. If we truly are unable to have it completed by the end of the year I want us to at least have had manned trials by then."

Loki nodded, less than enthused at the prospect of letting the R&D team know they'd be going without sleep from here on out, and slumped back in his chair the moment Odin was out of his office. It was going to be a long day.

It turned out to be exactly that. He'd headed down to R&D immediately to find the head technician already poring over new design schematics and rubbing at her temples as if it was the only thing keeping her relatively calm, braced himself for her reaction upon hearing the order to hurry the progress along, before mercifully barricading himself back in his office to tackle the hundreds of urgent emails awaiting his attention. It was some surprise to look up at the sound of a knock at his door and see it was only just beginning to grow dark outside. He'd thought it would be later than early evening by now.

Thor poked his head into the room. "Are you busy?"

"As much as you are," Loki replied as he looked back down at the screen in front of him and continued typing. Ever the optimist, Thor took that as an invitation to come in. Loki didn't mind. If Thor could put off the countless tasks awaiting his input or approval for a few minutes, Loki could do the same. Of course, Loki had been doing that far too often of late, unlike his brother, but Loki chose to ignore that little voice at the back of his mind.

"Dinner," Thor said, holding up the takeout container in his hands as he approached. He set it down on an empty space on Loki's desk and sank into the chair in front, moving to rest his feet on the desk and thinking better of it when he saw how cluttered it was.

Loki wrinkled his nose at the strong smell wafting towards him. He didn't recognise it. "What is it?"

"I thought I would try that little Vietnamese place on 46th for lunch," he replied, while Loki pulled the carton towards him, peeling off the lid and peering inside at what looked like some half-eaten savoury pancakes.

"And I presume you didn't like it, since you're giving me your leftovers?" If that was the case, Loki would have Thor take it back with him as he went. Loki didn't want it stinking up his office, and he hardly felt like taking a trip down to the canteen to dispose of it himself.

"No, it was delicious," Thor said, gazing down at the carton in front of Loki like it pained him to part with it, and Loki frowned. He'd never known Thor to willingly leave food unless he was ill; even if he'd hated it enough to complain about it to Loki afterwards, he'd never dream of being impolite enough to refuse to eat every scrap that was offered to him. "I'm meeting Sif and her mother for dinner in ten minutes," he explained. "I thought I should leave some room. And I presume you've not bothered to eat anything yet."

Loki ignored Thor's concern, an uncanny reflection of their mother's — which was no doubt where he had learnt it — to focus on his previous sentence, and the flash of discomfort that had passed across Thor's face as he'd said it. "I thought you liked Sif's mother," Loki said.

It was enough to distract Thor from his tired concerns about Loki's diet. "I do," replied Thor, and his brows furrowed, lips pinching. "Usually. It's just with all the wedding talk..."

"She's as domineering as father, I take it?"

"No, not quite that bad. I think she just never expected it to happen — not to Sif, anyway; you know how she is — so she's making the most of it."

"And it's giving you quite the headache," Loki filled in for him, and Thor nodded soberly in response.

"Meet me for a drink afterwards," he said. "I'd do well to forget about the wedding for one evening."

Loki eyed the messy folders scattered about his desk while another batch of emails flashed up on his computer screen. He'd managed to make a fair amount of headway, yet not as much as he'd hoped to, his mind drifting all too often throughout the day. He could probably manage to get back on top of it by tonight though, if he worked until it was done.

"Tomorrow," he said when he looked back up at Thor, who looked quite like he'd expected Loki to put him off for the night. "I promise."

"And I'll hold you to it," Thor replied, with a point of his finger to emphasise he meant it, as he pushed himself back out of the chair. He gazed towards the still open door and let out a weary sigh. "Well, wish me luck, then."

"Good luck."

Thor smiled back down at Loki, and with heavy, reluctant steps he made his way out of the room, plunging it back into silence when he closed the door behind him.

There was far more buoyancy in his step when he returned to Loki's office the next evening. "Gather your things," he said by way of greeting as he burst into the room, and Loki looked up from the report he was scanning. "I want us out of this building in five minutes."

"Give me a moment."

He turned back to the few remaining unread paragraphs, doing his best to ignore Thor's shuffling around the room while he finished reading, and hastily scrawled his signature on the bottom of the page. When he looked up Thor had already collected Loki's things for him.

"Eager to leave?" Loki said while he got to his feet, tucking the report under his arm to place on his secretary's desk ready for the morning and taking his coat from Thor's hands.

"It's Friday night, it's been a long week, and I would very much like to spend the evening drinking my cares away," replied Thor.

Loki couldn't say it was an unfamiliar sentiment. He followed Thor's enthusiastic pace from the office with a smile. The building was close to empty, the last dregs of people shuffling into the lifts with the familiar mixture of weariness and relief to be done with another week, and Thor and Loki stepped into the carriage after them.

"You know, father would have a great deal to say if he knew how keen you were to be away from this place," Loki said, a teasing smile on his face when he looked at Thor as if he was contemplating running upstairs to tell on him.

"I imagine he would," Thor replied. He glanced back at Loki with a similar smile on his face. "But of course with you at my side you would appear just as guilty."

That was the way it had always gone, and sometimes Loki wondered if it perhaps always would: Thor getting into trouble and Loki finding himself equally to blame for being foolish enough to tag along. He trailed after Thor as they stepped out into the chilly evening air, and Thor breathed it in for a moment, relishing his freedom.

"Dinner first?" Thor said, turning back to Loki, though he didn't wait to hear Loki's answer. "I know just the place," he announced, and led them to the Vietnamese restaurant two blocks over.

The sky was dark, the last hints of sunlight replaced by the brownish glow of light pollution, by the time they had stepped out onto the street again. The commuters were gone, in their place people in casual shirts and towering heels wandering between restaurants and clubs, and Loki looked around without any particular interest while Thor tried to hail them a cab. One pulled to a stop on the other side of the street after a moment and as Loki watched, two tall figures stepped out. They turned back, one bending to pay their fare while the other gazed absently about his surroundings, and Loki grinned when he recognised him.

Bucky soon caught sight of Loki in turn and beamed back at him, just as Thor's voice claimed Loki's attention. "Finally," he was saying, while a cab slowed to a stop in front of him, and he pulled open the door before turning back to Loki. "Come on, then."

Loki shot one last glance in Bucky's direction, his eyes still on Loki while a third figure struggled out onto the street and ambled on crutches beside the other man, and they shared a nod as Bucky turned to follow his friends and Loki climbed into the cab. He immediately slid his phone from his jacket pocket while Thor climbed in beside him and they set off.

 _'Fancy seeing you around these parts,'_ Loki typed, and after a moment his phone buzzed with Bucky's response.

_'Small world, huh?' it read. 'You just getting off work?'_

_'More or less. It's only a few blocks away.'_

_'And you're out before ten. That's gotta be some kind of record.'_

Loki smiled. He'd have quite liked to spend his evening with Bucky, since the chances of him getting out so early again any time soon were slim to none, but he supposed Thor was more in need of the company than Bucky was tonight. Now that he'd seen Bucky, though, and knew that he was so close, it was hard to think of anything else. But then Bucky had already been occupying Loki's thoughts for days, burying himself deep in Loki's mind and refusing to budge no matter how many more important things Loki tried to cram in alongside him, so perhaps he should be used to that by now.

 _'It was a daring escape,'_ Loki wrote. _'I thought I might be trapped there forever at times.'_ He hit send as the cab came to a stop, and tucked his phone away again before climbing out onto the street outside the bar.

Another benefit of being an Odinson, aside from unparalleled access to some of the finest restaurants in the city, was the ability to afford the membership prices of the kind of clubs and bars that most New Yorkers didn't even know existed. There had to be some perks, Loki supposed, to make up for the rest of it. The doorman greeted the two of them with a nod, and they stepped inside, handing over their coats before rounding the corner to head into the lounge. It was a long, narrow room, decked out in rich chocolate furnishings, the occasional cluster of people filling the sofas, and Thor and Loki made a beeline for the bar that ran the length of the opposite wall. The soft lighting from above reflected off its glossy surface as they took their seats.

They ordered their drinks, and while the bartender quickly slid a glass to each of them Loki felt his phone vibrate against his rib cage. He pulled it from his pocket again to read Bucky's message.

 _'It sounds like a terrifying place,'_ it read.

"It seems an age since you and I have spent any time together," said Thor once he'd finished taking a sip of his drink and nodding in greeting to someone sat further down the bar. This was the kind of place where everybody was vaguely acquainted with everybody else, whether through business connections or simply seeing each other's names in the papers enough times, though Loki had never had the flair for networking that Thor and Odin shared, nor the desire to learn it.

He hummed and swallowed a mouthful of his own drink. "Well, you've been busy planning the wedding of the year," he said, gazing back down at his and Bucky's conversation. The screen of his phone was perhaps a little conspicuously bright in the dim room, but he wasn't about to slide it away just yet. _'Oh yes. I'm lucky to be alive,'_ he typed, while Thor let out a pained groan in response beside him.

His expression was weary when Loki looked over at him. "I don't want to hear another word about the wedding tonight," he said.

That didn't stop him talking about it himself, though.

"She gave us a folder," Thor said, a great many drinks later, when the topic had turned to his dinner with Sif and her mother the night before. He'd always been able to hold his liquor far better than anybody else around him, so it was a testament to just how many drinks he'd downed so far that he was the one slurring his speech while Loki was still comparatively sober. Thor said the word like he was offended by it, like it should carry some great meaning that Loki should be similarly affected by, and Loki arched an eyebrow.

"A folder?" As Loki spoke he looked down surreptitiously at his phone under the bar and typed another message. _'What are you doing tonight?'_

"A wedding folder," Thor elaborated, and gestured by hovering his hand a few inches above the counter he was beginning to slump over. "This thick. Filled with ideas about the decorations, the food, the dress... You should have seen Sif's face." He straightened, gripping the edge of the bar to steady himself while he blinked a few times as if that might clear his head. "It was all I could do to keep her from calling the whole thing off last night."

"Maybe you should," Loki said.

Thor looked like he was quite tempted by the idea himself. "Father would kill me."

"Well of course." It would almost be worth it for Odin's reaction to the news, though. Loki would love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. He peered over at Thor, still frowning at the thought of his nuptials spiralling out of control. "Have you considered letting them know you and Sif want to do things your own way?"

Thor looked back at him sceptically, as if Loki had suggested either the impossible or the impossibly stupid. It was likely both. Loki shrugged and took another sip of his drink, while Thor sighed.

"It will be worth it in the end," he said, almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than Loki. "It's just the getting to that point that I'm beginning to dread."

Loki nodded. He was about to reply when his phone lit up in his lap, and he quickly snatched it up again.

 _'Cheering Sam up,'_ Bucky's message read. _'He's too crippled to schlep out to Brooklyn, so we figured we'd come keep him company in his neck of the woods tonight.'_

That would be the man on crutches Bucky had been with, then.

"What are you doing?" Thor said curiously from beside him before Loki could write his reply.

"Nothing," Loki said, still staring down at his phone but curling his hands around it protectively, lest Thor snatch it from Loki's hands the way he'd always loved to when they were younger. He still did it on occasion, when the mood struck to be particularly irritating. Loki wasn't sure Thor would ever completely grow out of that trait.

But seconds passed with no comment or movement from Thor, and when Loki eyed him again he'd turned to smile at the woman approaching to no doubt offer him her congratulations. Any thought to what Loki was up to he'd apparently forgotten for the moment, and Loki jumped on the opportunity to continue his conversation without Thor peering over his shoulder.

 _'Shouldn't you be letting him rest? You're a bad influence, Barnes,'_ Loki typed, a grin curling at the corner of his lips, and hit send.

***

Across town Bucky was smiling down at his phone. He could just picture the look on Loki's face, the hint of delight there'd be in his voice if he'd said the words aloud. Part of Bucky wished they were having this conversation face to face just for that reason.

"Am I boring you, Barnes?"

"Huh?" Bucky said. He glanced up to see Sam watching him with a frown.

Sam shook his head and turned to hobble back to their table. "Never mind," he said, his tone implying that Bucky should absolutely mind, and Bucky slipped his phone away to scoop up the drinks waiting for him on the counter before following Sam across the room.

"Some wingman he is," Sam said to Steve when they reached the table he'd found for them, and Steve tore his eyes from the football game on the flat screens above the bar to watch them approach. "There I am trying to impress this cute paralegal and he's more interested in his damn phone than helping a guy out."

Steve smiled at that and helped himself to one of the beers Bucky had set down on the table before he'd taken a seat. Sam positioned himself carefully on the other stool, grimacing while he made himself comfortable, and he slid his arms out of his crutches and pushed them forcefully in Bucky's direction for him to catch. He could have let them drop to the floor in response, had Sam struggle to manoeuvre on his busted leg to pick them up himself, but the thought didn't occur to him until he'd already caught them and tucked them against the brick wall at his back.

Bucky shrugged off that flicker of disappointment and pulled his phone back out of his pocket. "I thought you didn't need my help talking to girls," he said while he typed out his response to Loki's text. _'Hey, I'm being a great friend,'_ he wrote. _'Making him feel better, maybe getting him a sympathy lay...'_ He didn't bother to mention that he was failing at both so far. He and Steve had the whole rest of the evening to worry about Sam; they'd have his mind off his fractured ankle in no time. If Bucky could just resist his urge to keep checking his phone for a while, that was.

"I don't," Sam replied, indignant.

"Then what's the problem?"

Bucky hit the send button and, setting his phone on the table beside his drink, looked up to see Sam staring back at him, lips parted, like he was struggling to think up a response. He closed his mouth and gazed helplessly towards Steve.

"Hey, don't look at me," Steve said, "I'm staying out of this."

"Okay," Sam said, and he shuffled on his stool, took a sip of his drink in preparation. "The problem," he said, "is this thing." He nodded down to the cast poking out from beneath his shorts. It definitely wasn't the weather for shorts anymore, which was no doubt helping to sour Sam's mood. "It's hard to look like some kind of badass when your wingman's not listening and lets it slip that you can't even go out for a run without embarrassing yourself."

Steve tried and failed to suppress a snort at that.

"It's not funny."

"It is a little funny," Steve admitted.

Sam huffed and looked away. "I don't know why I hang out with you guys," he said. The pout on his face soon disappeared when the waitress approached their table, though.

"Hot wings," she announced as she set the basket down, and she eyed Steve with a smile. It wasn't hard to guess what she was thinking.

Steve shifted awkwardly in place, his cheeks turning pink at the attention. He cleared his throat to mutter a weak 'thanks' before she moved away. As Bucky watched she glanced over her shoulder at Steve on her way back to the bar and, on a hunch, he leant forward to inspect the basket closely. Sure enough, there was a card tucked amongst the paper napkins with the name Kayleigh and a phone number printed on it. Steve flushed even darker when Bucky held it up.

Sam looked downright appalled by the sight. "Are you kidding?" he said, with a scowl in Steve's direction.

"What?" replied Steve. He looked back at Sam with wide, innocent eyes, shoulders creeping up towards his ears. "I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, you don't have to." Sam narrowed his eyes at Steve once more for good measure before he sat back and sighed to himself again. "I gotta find uglier friends."

Bucky's phone buzzed and he quickly snatched it back up, another smile creeping onto his face as he read Loki's message.

_'Well if there's a sympathy lay at stake I take it back.'_

_'Damn right.'_ His fingers stayed hovering over the keyboard after he'd sent the message, and he chewed his lip, debating whether or not to ask Loki to meet him somewhere later. He'd been out with Steve and Sam for a couple of hours already, and he was having a good time, sure, but since the last night he'd spent at Loki's Bucky had hardly been able to think of anything else. He wouldn't mind a repeat performance. It was just trying to get away from his friends without facing a barrage of questions that would be the tricky part.

Before he could come to a decision, though, Steve's voice brought him back to reality. "All right," he said, and Bucky's head snapped up, "who are they?"

"Who?"

"This mystery person of yours."

Sam blinked. "There's a mystery person?"

"No," said Bucky, tucking the phone away as if it might make them forget he'd ever been looking at it, but Steve was already turning to Sam to fill him in.

"He's been glued to his phone all week," he said, and a knowing look dawned on Sam's face to match Steve's.

Bucky rolled his eyes. He could feel his cheeks warm as he took a long drink of his beer in the hopes that they would find something better to focus on by the time Bucky finished swallowing. It wasn't that he didn't want to share details about his love life with them — they were his closest friends, after all, and they'd never hesitated to share their ups and downs when it came to dating before. But he wasn't sure what he and Loki had even counted as dating yet; it was too early to offer him up for Steve and Sam's harsh judgement. And if they asked how he and Loki had met...

Steve was still looking back at him in interest when Bucky grudgingly set his bottle down again. "Is this who you went out with last week?"

"No," Bucky said again. Maybe if he said it enough times they'd believe it.

Thankfully, before they could keep questioning him another loud cheer went through the room, drawing Steve's attention back up to the TVs. From the corner of his eye Bucky saw Sam twist in his seat to look over his shoulder as well. "Who was it?" he said.

"The Broncos," Steve replied. "Touchdown."

Sam hummed in response; a 'good for them' kind of noise, not as thrilled as some people in the bar were but not disappointed either. Bucky didn't care either way. He was just glad his love life wasn't the centre of attention anymore. He drained his beer, forcing himself not to pull his phone out of his pocket again, no matter how much he wanted to, for the rest of the evening. His fingers twitched at every lull in the conversation, his thoughts anywhere but on Steve and Sam, until finally, once he and Steve had bundled a slightly tipsy Sam into bed back in his apartment on the Lower East Side and headed home themselves, Bucky collapsed onto his own bed and retrieved his phone.

_'You still awake?'_

The reply came almost immediately. _'Of course.'_

Bucky grinned.


End file.
